GIFT   OF 
James  Har court  West 


v 

. 


POEMS    OF    HUMAN 
PROGRESS 


POEMS    OF    HUMAN 
PROGRESS 


AND  OTHER  PIECES:   INCLUDING  ONE  HUNDRED 
AND  FIFTEEN  SONNETS 


BY 

JAMES    HARCOURT  WEST 

AUTHOR  ^OF  "UPLIFTS  OF  HEART  AND  WILL,"  "THE  COMPLETE  LIFE, 

"IN    LOVE    WITH    LOVE,"    "THE   NINTH    PARADISE,"    ETC. 


KRttfj  JFour  Illustrations 


BOSTON 

THE   TUFTS    COLLEGE    PRESS 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1914 
BY  JAMES  H.  WEST 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

PROEM  :    Revolve,  O  Earth  ! i 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  SONG 2 

POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

MAN'S  TRIUMPH-ERA  (Phi  Beta  Kappa  poem] 3 

THE  EPIC  OF  MAN 27 

MISCELLANEOUS 

Accelerant      37 

To  a  Baby  of  the  Twentieth  Century 38 

Alpha  and  Omega 39 

Up  to  the  Heights 41 

What  Are  We  Here  For  ? 42 

The  Great 43 

No  More 46 

The  Wail  of  Low  Humanity 47 

Justice  !  Freedom  ! 48 

Courage,  O  Workers  !      49 

Good  Shall  Conquer,  Never  Fear .- 51 

SONNETS 

The  Dayspring 53 

Reciprocation 54 

The  New  Creators 54 

Dream-Prophecy 55 

Lowell 56 

In  Admiration  of  World-Helpers 56 

Children's  Children 57 

Detritus,  I.,  II.,  III.,  IV 58-60 

Meditation  After  the  Passing  of  Ernest  Crosby 60 

O  Story-Teller!  Poet! 61 

Residuum,  I.,  II 62-63 

Entombed 63 

To  Yield 64 

V 


5  6  7  -S  i ',. 


vi  CONTENTS 

POEMS   OF    RELIGIOUS    PROGRESS 
MISCELLANEOUS  PACK 

Earth's  Golden  Prime  Lies  Infinitely  On 65 

"  Signs  and  Wonders  " 66 

To  Truth  —  My  God 69 

"  Prepared  " 70 

Deeper  and  Higher 71 

God  and  Man 72 

Man's  Best  Word  God's  True  Word 73 

The  Liberty  Wherewith  We  Are  Made  Free 74 

The  Age  of  Good     .    . 75 

In  the  Name  of  God 76 

Star  and  Cross 76 

The  New  Evangel    .    .    ,x 77 

Uplifts  of  Heart  and  Will 78 

Transformation 79 

In  Secret 80 

Whence  the  Glory  ? 80 

"  Laborers  Together  " 82 

SONNETS 

Search 83 

Loftier  Good 84 

Worship 84 

Revelation , 85 

"  Of  One  " 86 

The  Mother 86 

Beacon-Lights 87 

Religion  as  a  Life .< 88 

"  I  Will  Lay  Mine  Hand  Upon  My  Mouth  " 89 

Recognition  of  Oneness 90 

Wings 91 

"  To  Thine  Own  Self  Be  True  "      92 

POEMS    OF   LIVING 
MISCELLANEOUS 

Man's  Opportunity 93 

Ungrasped 95 

Thyself  Within 96 


CONTENTS  vii 

POEMS    OF    LIVING 

MISCELLANEOUS  (continued]  PAGB 

The  Path  of  Sun 97 

Life's  Meaning 98 

Futures 102 

Coin  in  Any  Realm 102 

Soul's  Paradise 103 

Forever  On 103 

"  In  Thy  Youth  " 104 

Soul  and  Sense 104 

Life's  Beauty 105 

Work 106 

Confessions  of  a  Voluptuary 107 

The  Laughing  Philosopher no 

Inward  Fires 113 

Sage  and  Clown 114 

Three  Quatrains:    Self-Illumined 116 

Words  and  Deeds 116 

The  Devil  of  Drink 116 

Dream-Counsel 117 

Cypress-Crowned 119 

Forelooking 120 

Zeal 122 

Through  the  Sunset  Sea 123 

After  a  Week  with  a  Woodchopper 125 

At  the  Summit -127 

SONNETS 

To  Prize  Life's  Hardness      129 

How  Sing'st  Thou,  Then  ? 130 

Joy  in  One's  Work ,    . 130 

The  Man  on  the  Mountain ~ 131 

Hours  of  Insight -. 132 

My  Feathered  Preacher 132 

Ideal  Beauty 133 

The  Path,  L,  II I34-I35 

The  Victor 135 

Spirals 136 

Heart's  Treasures 136 


viii  CONTENTS 

POEMS    OF    LIVING 

SONNETS  (continued}  PAGE 

And  Last  of  All  I  Learn  It 137 

Foils,  I.,  II 13^-139 

Platitudes 139 

Noon  in  the  Printing-Shop 140 

True  Life  of  Us , 140 

The  Nameless  Record 141 

A  Radiant  Youth  I  Knew,  I.,  II 142-143 

Self-Made  Crosses 143 

Causation 144 

Heredity 144 

Self-Gratulation 145 

Across  the  Line:  At  Fifty .*.....  146 

Ultima  Thule 147 

The  Loveliest  Angel 148 

POEMS    OF   NATURE 
MISCELLANEOUS 

In  Treetop  Land ,  „    „    .    .  149 

"A  Breath  from  the  Fields" 150 

Daffodils 152 

Sonata  of  the  Dragon-Fly 1 53 

Body  and  Spirit 155 

Mystic  River 157 

Sunshine 160 

Pan ' ,63 

SONNETS 

One  with  All    .    .  . 165 

In  Suburban  Woods 166 

Sunrise  in  Codman  Park 166 

In  Vacation 167 

By  Dark  or  Light 168 

Enchanted  Ground 168 

So  Like  the  Spring  She  Stands 169 

The  Earth  at  Play 170 

Hills  of  Morning 170 

Comrades 171 


CONTENTS  ix 

POEMS    OF   NATURE 

SONNETS  {continued}  PAGE 

To  My  Old  Wheel 172 

On  Crossing  the  Charles  at  Its  Mouth   .    .        172 

A  Spray  of  Hemlock 173 

Gull  and  Wave 174 

Exemplar 174 

On  Cape  Ann 175 

Dear  Mother  Earth 176 

Two  Wisps  of  Straw 176 

Nature's  Foundlings 177 

The  Secret 178 

Spirit  with  Spirit 179 

The  Pendulum 180 

SONNETS  OF  THE  BLUE  HILLS  RESERVATION 

Indian  Summer 181 

In  the  Blue  Hills  in  November,  I.,  II 182-183 

On  Hancock  Hill 183 

In  Wildcat  Notch 184 

In  Wonder  Every  Hour 184 

Winter  Glory 185 

On  Board  Ship  in  Sassamon  Notch    .    . 186 

Gain  Still  the  Goal 186 

Vine  and  Birches 187 

"The  Shanty" 188 

The  Silver  Birch .  189 

The  Pine-Tree 190 

To  a  Hemlock  on  Chickatawbut 191 

December  Hilltops 192 

POEMS    OF  THE    IMMORTAL   HOPE 
MISCELLANEOUS 

The  Transcendent  Possibility 193 

The  Kiss  of  Death 194 

The  Loved  and  Gone 195 

Who  Knows? 196 

The  Passing 199 

Gone                                                             201 


x  CONTENTS 

POEMS    OF   THE    IMMORTAL    HOPE   (continued) 

SONNETS  PAGE 

At  the  Turn  of  the  Road 203 

By  the  Dark-Bright  River 204 

Eastward  Windows 204 

Known  of  Old 205 

The  Vanished 206 

ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

THE  BELLS  OF  COMO  .    .   . 207 

HEART  OF  YOUTH 227 

MISCELLANEOUS 

Day  Unto  Day    .../.... 235 

When  Young  Hearts  Love 237 

I  Feel  That  I  Know  Her 238 

Sweetest  Songs  Are  Never  Sung 240 

The  Schoolmaster's  Dream 242 

Old  Timothy  John 245 

Midas  and  Musagetes 249 

Moonlight  on  College  Hill 251 

College  Hill 254 

SONNETS 

In  a  Country  Burial-Ground 256 

Love's  Predicament 257 

Penalty 258 

To  the  Muse,  After  Silence 258 

"Good-Bye" 259 

Rebirth 260 

TIMES  AND  SEASONS 

For  a  Birthday 261 

Merry  Christmas 262 

"  Then  Felt  I  Like  Some  Watcher  of  the  Skies  "   .    .    .    .  262 

Bon  Voyage 264 

Death  of  My  Friend :  the  Old  Year 265 

Easter 266 


CONTENTS  xi 

ADDITIONAL    POEMS   (continued) 

OCCASIONAL  AND  PERSONAL  PAGH 

In  Grateful  Love 267 

To  My  Children  on  Their  Marriage  Day 268 

"  Look  Back  at  Times  " 269 

Out  of  the  Distance 271 

Up  Higher 272 

"  Seventy  " 274 

SONNETS 

Mother  and  Child 276 

To  James  Vila  Blake 277 

In  Quest  to  Know 278 

At  Spruce-Tree 279 

God's  Mariners,  I.,  II 280-281 

The  Loyal  Traitor 282 

Redeem  Yourself,  O  Land ! 282 

Five  Times 283 

Finished 284 

IN  MEMORIAM 

The  Dead  Student 285 

Lewis  G.  Janes .   .    .  „ 288 

Adoniram  Judson  Patterson 290 

EARLIER  PIECES 

Concord  River 291 

Whither,  Ye  Stately  Ships 295 

The  Sorrowing  Wind 297 

A  Cane  from  Gethsemane 298 

The  Violet 301 

All  as  One 304 

L'ENVOI  :    Meteors 305 

INDEX  OF  TITLES 307 

INDEX  OF  SONNETS      312 

GENERAL  INDEX 314-328 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  Fragrance  of  clover,  coolness  in  the  deeps 
Beneath  low  branches  where  the  long  grass  creeps, 
And  most  of  all,  the  high  horizon's  rim, 
Where  cloudy  summits,  swathed  in  beauty,  swim." 

—  Frontispiece 

How  blest  are  they  whose  feet  these  slopes  ascend, 
Where  Thought  and  Brotherhood  together  blend !  " 

—  Facing  page  4 

"  '  Come  out  and  visit  us  ! '  the  Blue  Hills  call : 

'  From  Rattle  Rock  or  Chickatawbut  scaled 

See  leagues  of  undulating  glory  spread  ! ' " 

—  Facing  page  iSi 

"  Full  many  a  placid  hour 

Beside  your  edge  I  've  strayed, 
And  many  a  sylvan  bower 
Has  Fancy  there  displayed." 

—  Facing  page  292 


Xll 


PROEM 


PROEM 

Revolve,  O  EattJi  !    You  cannot  whirl 

And  in  your  pathway  not  unfurl 

Rare  canvases  of  sky  and  sea 

And  glowing  faces,  greeting  me. 

You  too  revolve,  my  circling  rhyme  ! 
Not  yours  the  art  defying  Time, 
Yet  canvases  of  love  you  show, 
WJiere  troubled  hearts  for  rest  may  go. 

Flow  on,  thou  Ocean  at  my  door  ! 
Not  here  alone  your  billows  roar, 
But  'mid  the  ice  of  Arctic  seas 
And  round  tJie  shining  Cyclades. 

Flow  too,  my  verse,  in  mobile  tide  ! 

On  Being 's  billows  rise  and  ride. 

Not  yours  to  tJiunder  round  the  Poles, 

But  haply  you  may  freshen  souls. 

In  beauty  bloom,  O  tasseled  Corn 
And  Wheat  lands  that  the  West  adorn  ! 
The  sunlight 's  kisses  crown  your  head 
And  you,  supply  the  world  with  bread. 

O  soul 's  high  uplands  where  I  plant  ! 

Life's  simples  are  your  harvest  scant. 

Happy  if  seekers  in  your  hills 

Find  herbs  for  healing  human  ills. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  SONG 

Raptured  by  the  Springtime  Muse, 
Do  the  robins  "  will"  to  sing? 

Do  the  meadow-sparrows  "choose" 
When  their  liquid  notes  shall  ring , 

Nay,  the  lilt  is  in  their  heart, 

And  the  strains  unbidden  start. 

Song,  thou  soul's  divine  estate, 
Hold  me  ever  at  thy  call  ! 

Left  in  silence,  glad  I  wait ; 
Used,  I  render  thee  my  all. 

Humble  is  my  homely  lyre  — 

Thou  the  spirit,  thou  the  fire. 


POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 


MAN'S    TRIUMPH  -  ERA 


Read  at  Tufts  College,  June  18,  1906,  at  the  meeting 

of  the  Delta  Chapter  of  Massachusetts, 

PHI  BETA  KAPPA 


*  * 


[The  poem  depicts  a  walk  with  college  men,  with  discourse  on 
human  progress] 


a  Btbu  Kf/3ep  ^77x779 

"  Philosophy  (  Wisdom  )  the  guide  of  life 


POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

7.     MAN'S    TRIUMPH -ERA 


MAN'S   TRIUMPH -ERA 

i 

Hail,  scenes  and  faces  of  my  youth's  delight ! 
And  you  no  less,  friends  newer  to  my  sight ; 
For  all  are  one,  in  heart  and  wish  and  will, 
Who  ever  came  in  faith  to  College  Hill. 

How  blest  are  they  whose  feet  these  slopes  ascend, 
Where  Thought  and  Brotherhood  together  blend  ! 
Where  Knowledge  lures  the  mind  to  highest  reach, 
While  Friendship  binds  the  seekers  each  to  each. 
Knowledge  alone  is  but  an  Arctic  dame ; 
She  needs  the  ardor  of  Affection's  flame, 
The  fertile  warmth  which  nurtures  scope  and  plan, 
Ere  she  shall  minister  her  wealth  to  man. 
Put  well  your  knowledge  to  some  frequent  use,  — 
The  Alpine  blossom  yields  its  saving  juice ; 
Cherish  your  brothers  in  the  daily  stress,  - 
The  calculus  uncovers  a  caress. 

'T  was  thus  I  dreamed  in  years  when  life  was  young  ; 
For  this  no  less  to-day  I  find  a  tongue. 
Required  to  sing  on  Learning's  sacred  ground, 
What  higher  strain  could  loyal  minstrel  sound  ! 

4 


f 


CTQ    rt 

f  rt. 
<-f  3- 


2  5T 


s,«. 


^    "P- 
I 


MAN'S    TRIUMPH -ERA 


ii 

I  thank  you,  brothers,  for  this  honor  given ! 
Had  I,  ambitious,  for  distinction  striven, 
A  higher  honor  I  had  scarcely  sought 
Than  this  which  freely  to  my  hand  you  brought. 
It  is  not  now  as  in  the  days  of  old, 
When  godlike  Homer  wove  his  cloth  of  gold, 
Or  Pindar,  for  admiring  throngs  around, 
Made  Nature  vocal  with  alluring  sound. 
The  warrior  and  the  senator  found  then 
Their  rest  and  recreation  in  the  pen, 
And  highest  honors  of  the  hall  and  State 
Were  his  who  had  the  genius  to  create. 

Swayed  by  the  magic  muse  of  Sophocles, 
Men  hailed  him  messenger  of  Heaven's  decrees. 
The  ardor  of  a  mind-exultant  day 
Awoke  in  him  a  soul-exalting  lay, 
In  which,  forever,  Justice  found  a  tongue, 
And  gods  from  men  their  evil  impulse  wrung. 
No  joy  or  rage  he  sang  with  tuneful  art 
But  found  an  echo  in  the  human  heart. 

Let  ^Eschylus  but  offer  to  recite, 
A  crowd  hung  breathless  till  the  shades  of  night. 
O  time-long  tragedy  !  —  the  life  of  good, 
Which  vainly  struggled  to  be  understood, 
Yet,  baffled  by  the  ignorance  of  man, 
So  often  held  him  under  cruel  ban  ! 
But  eager  multitudes  enraptured  heard, 
And  felt  forgiven  as  by  some  Heavenly  Word. 


6          POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

Simonides  but  raised  his  voice  to  sing, 
A  score  had  laurels  in  their  hands  to  fling, 
And  all  his  audience  arose  as  one 
To  thunder  plaudits  when  his  verse  was  done. 
Happy  the  poet  bringing  rhymes  to-day 
Whose  hearers  do  not  rise  —  to  run  away ! 

in 

Yet  not  to  Poesy  —  to  man's  own  heart 
The  doom,  if  earnestness  from  earth  depart ! 
For  Song  is  Earnestness  !  is  Vital  Force ! 
Its  lightning  flashes  from  the  Primal  Source ; 
And  robed  in  phrase  of  beauty,  sweet  and  high, 
It  lifts  man's  spirit  to  its  native  sky. 
It  dies  when  pettiness  or  thirst  for  power 
Usurps  inglorious  the  spirit's  dower ; 
Life's  outward  luxury  —  divine  as  means  — 
Is  sordid  end,  and  to  decadence  leans. 
Time  was,  New  England  gloried  in  her  choir 
Of  poet-prophets  of  divinest  fire ; 
America  again  shall  burst  to  song 
When  she  again  exalts  the  right  o'er  wrong, 
The  permanent  o'er  transient,  —  golden  joys 
Of  lasting  greatness  o'er  its  poor  alloys. 
No  greatness  gleams  where  verse  in  thought  is  bound 
And  bards  content  themselves  with  form  and  sound. 

The  singers  who  have  held  the  world  in  awe 
Chose  mighty  themes  !     They  sought  the  secret  law 
Which  binds  men  to  the  highest,  and  their  strife 
Revealed  the  oneness  of  that  law  with  Life. 


MAN'S    TRIUMPH -ERA  7 

The  singers  of  the  early  Attic  line 
Struck  oft  a  chord  less  human  than  divine. 
The  drama  of  man's  tragic  earthly  fate, 
The  love  of  love,  an  awful  hate  of  hate, 
A  yearning  death's  dark  mystery  to  scan, 
The  overbrooding  of  the  gods  with  man, 
Life's  deep  despair,  hope's  strife  magnanimous, 
The  vulture  and  the  chains  on  Caucasus,  — 
Love  ever  dragging  stones  up  slippery  hills, 
Yet  good  triumphant  at  the  last  o'er  ills,  — 
The  groping  soul  in  labyrinth  of  doubt, 
Yet  faithful  to  the  clue  which  leads  it  out,  — 
Thus  sang  and  strove  the  giant  poets  then, 
And  justified  the  ways  of  God  to  men. 
To-day  no  more  we  lift  that  heathen  rod, 
But  justify  the  ways  of  men  to  God ! 

IV 

The  seer  alone  shall  sing  !  his  word  has  worth 
In  measure  as  it  rarefies  the  earth. 
O  Dante,  Milton,  Wordsworth,  Tennyson  ! 
By  right  divine  your  deathless  fame  ye  won ! 
O  Lowell,  Whitman,  Emerson  !  your  brows 
Were  lofty  with  the  truth  ye  did  espouse ! 
Freedom  and  justice  —  brotherhood  —  your  call ; 
No  thought  of  self  was  yours,  but  thought  of  all ; 
And  endless  as  the  ages  is  their  fame 
Who  dare  for  truth  the  world's  repulse  and  shame. 

This  is  the  touch,  the  test  the  Muses  bring 
To  venturing  spirit  who  aspires  to  sing :  — 


8          POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

What  bliss  wilt  thou  forego,  what  danger  dare, 
What  nakedness  and  ignominy  share 
To  give  thee  insight,  wisdom,  make  thee  ripe 
To  blow  upon  Apollo's  tuneful  pipe  ? 
That  soul  alone  who  shareth  mortal  woe 
Triumphant  up  Parnassus'  heights  shall  go  ; 
That  spirit  only  which  hath  felt  the  fire 
Can  fail  a  flame  to  make  the  world  aspire. 


No  less  our  rare  To-day  than  epochs  gone 
May  sound  the  poet's  call,  "  Come  up  and  on  !  " 
The  world  from  gloom  of  a  material  age 
Is  sweeping  to  a  sunlit  heritage. 
O  humble  who  would  strike  immortal  lyre, 
Ascend  Prometheus-like  and  seize  your  fire ! 

There  is  a  spirit  in  the  air  to-day 
Which  cries,  "  Return  !    Resume  the  righteous  way  ! 
The  broader  universe  which  now  men  know 
Seemed  bent  at  first  men's  faith  to  overthrow. 
With  faith  and  fear  went  consciousness  of  right, 
But  they  have  found  false  freedom  but  a  blight. 
Though  sundered  from  the  dogmas  of  the  past, 
They  find  the  soul's  high  dignity  holds  fast. 
They  learn  that  liberty  is  not  despite,  — 
That  freedom  is  but  freedom  in  the  right. 
Again  they  know  that  good  has  power  to  bless ; 
Integrity  is  still  the  one  success. 

The  mighty  problem  which  confronts  men  now 
Is  Knowledge  with  devotion  to  endow. 


MAN'S    TRIUMPH -ERA  9 

High  work  has  science  ;  this  is  harder,  higher  :  — 

New  insight  with  old  reverence  to  inspire  ! 

The  creeds  of  ignorance  can  ne'er  return  ; 

Their  imaged  woes  in  their  own  torment  burn  ; 

But  the  high  temper  of  their  authors'  souls 

Must  color  and  inflame  our  finer  goals. 

A  lofty  lie  may  lofty  fruitage  bear 

If  lofty  spirits  give  it  sun  and  air ; 

But  truth  itself  shall  fail  of  saving  might 

If  halting  followers  neglect  its  light. 

One  sacred  highway  opens  for  man's  feet : 
The  path  of  Truth  :  through  flowers  —  through  dust 

and  heat. 

One  deathless  passion  sanctifies  his  heart : 
To  do  the  Right,  and  never  from  it  part. 

VI 

The   Truth  ?  —  the   Right  ?  —  are  these   so  hard 

to  find  ? 
Are  men  so  godlike,  yet  forever  blind  ? 

A  scholar  sought  to  know  where  truth  might  lie, 
That  he  might  follow  it  ere  called  to  die. 
Through  all  the  weary  wilderness  of  books 
He  wandered,  as  a  child  by  running  brooks. 
No  ancient  shrines  or  monuments  he  missed, 
Nor  peaks  Himalayan,  all  sunrise-kissed, 
Where  Meditation  dreamed  and  mystics  dwelt. 
Whatever  China  taught  or  Egypt  felt 
He  made  his  own  ;  and  Babylon  and  Greece 
Lent  sculptured  fantasy  and  golden  fleece. 


io         POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

Through  all  the  French  philosophers  he  sought, 
With  German  metaphysics  patient  wrought ; 
And  Spencer,  Darwin,  Dolbear,  Royce,  and  James 
In  his  long  studies  were  familiar  names. 

One  summer  twilight,  still  he  delved  and  dreamed, 
Though  far  as  ever  from  the  truth  he  seemed  ; 
And  while,  through  open  door,  came  insects'  hum, 
He  wrote  this  sonnet  of  the  Pendulum  :  — 

THE  PENDULUM 

Nature,  in  thy  glad  temple,  to  and  fro, 
Ever  the  pendulum  of  beauty  swings  ; 
Summer  or  winter,  spring  or  autumn,  brings 
Rapture  of  eye  where'er  we  turn  or  go. 

Dawn-dew,  the  virtue  of  the  sunrise-glow, 

The  grasses'  strength,  the  spruces'  freshening  rings, 
Fall's  smokeless  flame,  white  wreaths  December 

flings,  — 
Largess  of  beauty  gods  might  joy  to  know. 

Surely,  O  Nature,  thine  no  mocking  bloom  ! 
Vibrates  thy  pendulum  not  aimlessly,  — 
An  order  meaningless,  —  a  dial-less  clock  ! 

Yet  where  revolve  thy  hands  that  point  our  doom  ? 
And  how  through  ages  is  rewound  thy  key  ? 
No  answer  greets  us  though  we  knock  and  knock. 


Before  him  open  on  the  table  lay 
In  Greek  the  volume  wherein  day  by  day 


MAN'S    TRIUMPH- ERA  n 

He  pondering  read  of  one  whose  soul  was  set 
To  raise  the  world  above  consuming  fret ; 
A  soul  that  found  in  lilies  of  the  field 
A  promise  of  the  beauty  life  should  yield 
To  every  seeker  who  with  simple  heart 
Embraced  the  good  and  bade  the  ill  depart. 
The  Greek  he  loved,  and  in  it  daily  read ; 
It  seemed  a  living  language,  not  a  dead. 
And  yet  its  meaning  did  not  live  for  him ; 
It  oft  seemed  desultory,  vague,  and  dim. 
He  did  not  dig  into  its  heart  to  find 
The  secret  hidden  there,  but  read  as  blind. 
So  read  he  now,  perceiving  not  its  grace, 
Nor  knowing  that  it  wore  a  seraph's  face. 
"  What  meaning,"  cried  he,  "  can  this  mystery  bear  ?  " 
Then  scanned  again  the  wonder  written  there  : 

"  Tt  ^rjrelre  TOV  ^wvra  pera  TCOV  ve/cpwv ;  " 

"  'T  is  of  a  piece,"  he  said,  "  with  all  my  search 
Through  dim  philosophy  and  dimmer  Church, 
Through  science,  dogmas,  ancient  pagan  lore, 
Old  Eastern  dream  and  Western  logic's  store ;  — 
It  all  resolves  itself  at  last  to  haze, 
And  leaves  the  seeker  wandering  in  a  maze." 

Poor  foolish  scholar  !  asking  still  the  same 
Old  foolish  questions  without  end  or  aim  ! 
Happy,  the  drawing  night  approached  in  calm, 
And  wrapped  the  earth  and  him  in  slumber's  balm. 


12        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

While  now  in  dreams  he  wandered,  worn  with 

thought, 

A  sudden  glow  descended,  and  he  caught 
A  vision  of  a  bright  angelic  form, 
As  mellow  as  the  sunlight  after  storm. 
The  apparition  smiled,  —  serene  his  look,  — 
And  laid  his  angel  finger  on  the  book  ; 
Then  scanned  with  love  the  scholar  and  the  page, 
And  read  aloud  the  dream  of  Syrian  age,  — 
The  very  words  at  which  the  scholar  stopped 
Ere  wearily  in  sleep  his  head  he  dropped  : 


"  Ti    Treire  TOV 


//.era  TV 


"  Your  search,"  the  Angel  said,  "  has  here  its  end  ! 
This  heavenly  trope  becomes  your  guide  and  friend  ! 
Upon  this  vine  hang  grapes  in  rich  excess 
Which  each  new  age  for  wine  of  life  must  press. 
The  letter  killeth,"  said  the  Angel  bright  ; 
"  The  spirit  giveth  unimagined  light. 
Forget  the  time  and  scene  that  spake  the  word, 
As  ye  neglect  the  plumage  of  a  bird 
When  song  ecstatic  ripples  on  the  air, 
Its  melody  a  medicine  for  care. 
Ye  strive  for  truth  in  dreams  of  ages  fled  : 
'  Why  seek  ye  for  the  living  'mid  tJie  dead  !  ' 
What  if  the  secret  in  that  phrase  should  be  - 
Seek  not  for  truth  in  old  futility  ! 
1  Seek  not  the  living  where  repose  the  dead  '- 
Seek  not  in  crypts  and  catacombs  for  bread, 


MAN'S    TRIUMPH -ERA  13 

Seek  not  the  dawn  in  darkened  sunset  sky, 

Seek  not  for  flame  where  only  ashes  lie. 

The  living  dwell  not  where  the  dead  repose  : 

Only  the  beetle  to  such  feasting  goes. 

Rest  not  thine  eye  on  graves,  but  rather  scan 

Some  living  world  where  waits  some  living  man. 

Grind  not  forever  the  Past's  mouldy  bones  ; 

The  Present  offers  hot  electric  stones 

From  out  whose  contact  —  if  his  aid  man  lend  — 

Burst  rays  of  energy  earth's  woes  to  end. 

Not  by  the  starry  reckonings  of  the  Past 

The  course  of  current  destiny  is  cast. 

No  act  or  thought  of  yesterday  can  say 

To  present  need,  '  I  am  the  truth,  the  way.' 

Each  sun  that  rises  draws  its  heavenly  rill, 

And  adds  to  human  insight,  wish,  and  will. 

The  truth  comes  nearest  in  each  latest  deed 

Where  earth  is  helped,  or  they  are  raised  who  bleed." 

When  morning,  robed  in  iridescent  light, 
Made  hill  and  tree  a  rapture  to  the  sight, 
The  scholar  rose  and  looked  upon  the  earth, 
His  soul  exuberant  with  holy  mirth. 
The  blossom  he  had  sought  so  far  away 
He  found  a-bloom  in  his  own  heart  that  day  :  — 

In  the  Present's  need  and  beauty 
Find  the  Present's  truth  and  good  ; 

Only  in  its  present  duty 

Shall  the  Now  be  understood. 


14        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

VII 

How  beautiful  is  youth  which  sets  its  heart 
To  know  earth's  needs  —  and  takes  the  righteous  part ! 
O  you  once  young  with  me  !  —  and  ever  young  !  — 
How  sweet  those  vanished  seasons  when  we  flung 
Our  flag  of  eager  search  to  truth's  free  sky, 
And  vowed  its  ministry  to  magnify  ! 
These  slopes  to  which  fond  memory  oft  returns 
Were  then  our  Horeb  !  —  (Moses'  bush  still  burns  !)  — 
And  all  the  wide  horizon  round  about 
Was  Holy  Ground,  and  we  its  priests  devout. 
How  oft,  in  dear  dead  days  no  more  to  be, 
Yon  hills  and  waters  lured  us  forth  in  glee 
To  seek  enchantment  such  as  sailors  find 
When  up  the  streams  of  some  new  world  they  wind  ! 
Columbus  nor  Vespucci  ever  knew 
More  marvels  than  before  our  footsteps  grew  : 
Lakes,  pathless  forest-ways,  the  rocky  dome 
Of  crumbling  hills  where  blue-bells  had  their  home, 
And  pines  and  hemlocks  which  in  shady  grove 
Implored  us,  "  Rest,  belov'd  !  no  longer  rove  !  " 
Boughs  which,  when  we  departed,  gave  us  bloom 
Freely  to  decorate  our  evening  room  ;  — 
Nor  ever  ours  Macbeth's  despairing  thrill 
When  Stoneham  woods  should  come  to  College  Hill, 
But  rather,  rare  delight  that  in  our  arm 
We  bore  the  leaves  for  every  earthly  harm. 

Yet  ne'er  we  journeyed  on  that  frequent  walk 
Simply  to  wander.     Nay,  we  went  to  talk. 


MAN'S    TRIUMPH -ERA  15 

Nor  yet  alone  to  talk,  but  also  think, 

Determined  not  Thought's  utmost  isle  to  shrink. 

O  mind  of  youth,  how  large  thy  thoughts  and  wide  ! 

What  though  Tradition  may  thy  dreams  deride, 

Let  no  professor  think  he  shall  confine 

In  four-walled  class-room  search  for  the  divine ! 

Not  in  books  only  of  the  mouldering  Past  — 

In  living  souls  the  melodies  that  last ! 

So  forth  we  wandered  —  youths  on  errands  bent  : 

The  "  Father's  business  "  which  is  never  spent. 

"  Come,  Frank  !  come,  Rufus  !  let  us  walk  to-day  !  " 
That  call,  who  heard  and  ever  answered  "  Nay  "  ? 

I  pause  and  ponder.     Fain  my  eyes  would  look 
Again  upon  each  face  as  on  a  book. 
Once  more  I  mingle  with  that  eager  band !  — 
In  thought  I  greet  them,  —  take  each  friendly  hand. 

O  magic  art  that  summons  vanished  joys, 
Through  thee  I  hail  again  the  old-time  boys  ! 

VIII 

THE  OLD-TIME  BOYS 

O  brothers,  give  a  moment's  dream 

To  sacred  seasons  gone ; 
Again  catch  evanescent  gleam 

Of  Joe  and  Will  and  John. 

How  many  are  the  years  between, 
With  hopes  that  rose  and  sank ! 


16        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

But  naught  can  our  affection  wean 
From  Ez  and  Rob  and  Frank. 

Brave  comrades  !  some  have  tamed  the  air, 
Some  spanned  the  mountain  gorge ; 

We  love  to  see  the  natives  stare 
At  deeds  of  Sam  and  George. 

Tread  softly  !  some  are  lying  low 

Within  their  grassy  bed ; 
All  dewy  are  the  flowers  we  throw 

To  slumbering  Dick  and  Ned. 

A  thousand  still  earth's  bubbles  chase 

As  years  successive  fall ; 
The  prizes  —  are  they  worth  the  race 

To  Steve  and  Gus  and  Paul  ? 

A  score  are  wise  professors  now 
Who  once  seemed  dull  as  we  ! 

We  doff  our  hats  to  Tom,  and  bow,  — 
He's  now  a  PH.D. 

A  host,  with  tireless  pen  and  brain, 
Have  wrought  for  truth  and  man. 

'T  is  well !  —  for  us  they  still  remain 
Just  Eb  and  Rube  and  Dan. 

To  grow  so  great,  upon  what  meat 
Hath  this  our  Caesar  fed ! 


MAN'S   TRIUMPH -ERA  17 

Of  old,  who  dreamed  such  lofty  seat 
Would  be  attained  by  Fred  ? ' 

A  modest  glow  may  likewise  thrill 
Your  bard  of  transient  fame  ;  — 

Upreared  upon  this  honored  Hili 
One  Hall  embalms  his  name  ! 2 

But,  comrades,  mainly  't  is  the  strength, 

The  loyal  works  and  lives, 
Of  silent  sons,  by  which  at  length 

A  fostering  mother  thrives. 

Be  sure,  O  who  in  quiet  ways 

Still  honor  Tufts  by  deeds, 
That  youths  as  endless  as  the  days 

Shall  still  supply  her  needs. 

Still  fresh,  on  Oval  and  in  halls, 

As  time  its  passage  treads, 
Shall  rise,  when  Alma  Mater  calls, 

Her  answering  Johns  and  Eds. 

IX 

But,  brothers,  now,  in  thought  of  other  years, 
On  one  glad  walk  to-day  be  my  compeers ! 

Those  rovings  of  our  youth-time  come  not  back  ;  — 
Nor,  came  they,  could  we  take  the  selfsame  track ! 

1  At  that  time  the  President  of  Tufts  College.         2  West  Hall ! 


i8        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

The  cherished  groves  which  lured  our  youthful  feet, 
The  scenes  where  soul  found  contemplation  sweet, 
Have  vanished ;  and  through  hillside,  field,  and  fen 
Wind  busy  highways  now,  for  busy  men. 

With  changing  generations  and  new  days 
Change  also  paths  where  men's  ambition  strays. 
The  waking  world  learns  riches  cannot  take 
The  place  of  honor,  nor  its  loss  remake. 
Our  boasted  age  its  "golden  standard"  had, 
But  holds  its  standard  now  but  money-mad. 
If  one  had  genius,  that  was  very  well  — 
If  it  enabled  him  to  buy  and  sell. 
Worth  still  the  man  did  make,  and  crowned  the 

earth ;  — 

But  it  must  be  a  million  dollars'  worth. 
The  wind  blows  east,  and  then  the  wind  blows  west  ; 
The  wind  of  virtue  speeds  man's  shallop  best. 

Come,  Tom  !  come,  Harry  !  walk  a  mile  with  me  !  — 
The  earth  has  gold  no  sordid  eye  can  see  : 
It  lies  beside  the  common  road  —  the  way 
Where  buttercups  flash  open  to  the  day 
And  lily-lips  reach  up  to  drink  the  sky 
And  daisy-fields  in  wind-swept  furrows  lie. 
It  dwells  in  simple  thought  and  simple  heart, 
Forsaking  care  to  find  the  better  part. 
Why  mumble  dust  before  one's  time,  I  say ! 
The  dust  will  come  full  soon,  and  come  to  stay. 


MAN'S    TRIUMPH- ERA  19 

The  twilight  falls !  the  whip-poor-will 

His  note  is  calling ; 
And  all  the  air  —  no  moment  still  — 
Is  vibrant  with  the  pulsing  thrill 
Of  crickets,  spelling  field  and  hill 

With  sound  incessant,  rising,  falling,  — 
Fit  chorus  for  the  whip-poor-will, 

Still  calling,  calling. 

O  you  who  in  these  classic  hives 

Find  soul-exalting  toil, 
Remember  those  whose  dusty  lives 

Are  mured  in  thankless  moil. 

Pierian  spring  for  you  ne'er  fails  !  — 

Their  dream  no  culture  decks 
Whose  only  knowledge  comes  in  bales, 

Whose  lore  is  drafts  and  checks. 

No  time  is  theirs  the  clouds  to  scan 

Or  hear  the  robin  calling ; 
They  've  only  time  for  sifting  bran 

And  keeping  stocks  from  falling. 

On  nights  so  still  that  field  and  tree, 

And  even  breezes,  listen, 
Oh,  who  will  walk  a  mile  with  me 

To  watch  Orion  glisten  ? 

Forever  must  we  ape  the  bee  ? 
Forever  seek  but  honey  ? 


20        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

Oh,  who  will  walk  a  mile  with  me 
To  lose  a  little  money  ! 

x 

With  thought  of  earth  as  more  than  golden  ball, 
Come  dreams  of  sharing  planet-wealth  with  all. 

The  race  —  for  ages  blind  with  mental  lack, 
And  bent  with  woes  of  brutehood  on  its  back  — 
At  length  uplifted  eyes  to  greet  the  stars, 
Spurned  its  low  levels,  burst  all  hindering  bars, 
Stood  upright,  knew  itself  at  last  as  Man, 
With  godlike  powers  to  hew  and  build  and  plan. 

When  once  he  spoke,  the  victory  was  nigh  ; 
Speech  was  his  ladder  leaning  on  the  sky. 
Each  now  could  work  with  others ;  each  could  tell 
The  thought,  the  dream,  which  lured  him  to  excel. 
O  magic  word,  "  Together !  "•  -this  the  charm 
To  speed  the  race  beyond  the  power  of  harm  ! 

Yet  man  still  clung,  still  clings  to-day,  with  rage, 
To  one  fierce  instinct  of  the  primal  age. 
The  tiger  in  the  jungle  tears  his  prey  — 
But  warns  his  fellows  from  the  feast  away ! 
Self,  self  !  .  .  .  O  brother,  what  does  "  brother  "  mean  ? 
Strength  's  ne'er  so  strong  as  crying  "  Brother,  lean  !  " 

Is  he  the  anarchist  whose  hopeful  strife 
Affirms  the  State's  decease  Man's  larger  life  ? 
Is  he  of  law  less  baleful  enemy 
Who  law  o'er-rides  for  self-ascendency, 
Or  law  manipulates  with  scheme  and  plan 
To  pluck  and  prostitute  his  brother-man  ? 


MAN'S    TRIUMPH -ERA  21 

Who  is  the  baleful  socialist  ?  the  wight 
Who  holds  that  social  righteousness  is  right, 
And  dreams  earth's  general  product  should  provide 
A  general  sustenance,  not  slip  aside  ? 
The  baleful  socialist  alone  is  he 
Who  says  "  Society  exists  for  Me  !  " 

Let  none  believe  he  gains  the  spirit's  goal 
Whose  prayer  is  for  his  individual  soul ; 
Nor  that  his  earthly  bread  is  more  than  stone 
Whose  mill-wheels  rumble  for  himself  alone. 
Fie  highest  "  prospers  "  whose  intents  are  high, 
Not  bounded  by  the  bounds  of  "thou  "  and  "  I  "  ; 
He  noblest  joys  who  works  with  Nature's  good, 
Evolving  harmony  where  chaos  stood ; 
Who  holds  the  universe  a  Cosmos  sound, 
And  finds  his  freedom  being  nobly  bound  ; 
Who  does  his  part  to  banish  ill  from  earth, 
Transforming  ignorance  to  art  and  mirth  ; 
Who  asks  no  cup  at  Nature's  fruitful  Fair 
Which  others  may  not  quaff  in  equal  share ; 
Who  dreams  no  heaven  of  arbitrary  grace, 
But  makes  his  fellowship  the  human  race. 
'T  is  he  I  hail  as  manly  man  and  true ; 
His  knowledge  fits  him  for  time's  widest  view ; 
Philosophy  indeed  instructs  his  life,  — 
He  gains  its  blessing  and  avoids  its  strife. 

Come,  Tom  !  come,  Reuben  !  higher  see 
Than  this  or  next  world's  pelf  : 


22        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

Oh,  who  will  walk  a  mile  with  me 
To  banish  dreams  of  self  ? 

Come,  Frank  !  come,  Will !  the  jubilee 

Of  ages  sounds  its  call ! 
Oh,  who  will  walk  a  mile  with  me 

To  give  himself  for  all ! 

XI 

Oh,  June  delight !     Oh,  miracle  each  day 
Which  points  our  path  and  signals  us  away ! 
The  piled  luxuriance  of  pink  and  white 
Where  orchards  lately  bloomed,  a  holy  sight, 
Is  now  transformed  to  bowers  of  densest  green, 
Where  swelling  fruits  expand  each  day  unseen. 
This  wealth  unreckoned  is  our  Mother's  store, 
Who  never  paints  "  No  Trespass  "  on  her  door. 

Who  first  called  Nature  "  Mother  "  ?     In  his  soul 
The  partial  vanished  in  the  larger  Whole ! 
A  mother  feeds  her  child  with  smiles  and  songs;  — 
No  less  her  milk  unto  her  babes  belongs ! 

A  lavish  Mother  has  each  son  of  Earth, 
And  sky  and  flower  and  mountain  make  him  mirth. 
No  less  her  fruits,  and  every  hidden  wealth 
Which  warms  and  nurtures  him  and  brings  him  health, 
Belong  to  him  by  equal  right  divine 
With  airs  that  circulate  and  suns  that  shine. 
A  mother  lifts  not  one,  thrusts  others  down,  — 
For  one  a  kiss,  for  one  a  niggard  frown ; 
Each  hungering  child  receives  his  needful  share, 


MAN'S   TRIUMPH -ERA  23 

And  drinks  her  being  as  he  drinks  the  air, 

While  all  her  children  she  in  turn  would  call 

To  share  with  each  as  she  herself  with  all. 

What  son  were  he,  by  food  maternal  blest, 

Who  turned  and  pushed  his  brother  from  the  breast ! 

A  single  portion  of  our  own  fair  land, 
The  State  where  swings  the  Gulf's  prolific  strand, 
'Tis  said  could  furnish  in  its  fertile  space 
Abundant  food  for  all  the  human  race. 
Unfed  ?    Unsheltered  ?    Children  pinched  and  white  ? 
A  million  prattlers  crying  in  the  night  ? 
Unnumbered  women  toiling  beyond  strength 
For  just  an  unknown  resting-place  at  length  ? 
Redemptive  genius  fettered  by  the  chains 
WThich  bind  its  energies  to  earthly  planes  ? 
Rare  souls  aspiring  like  prophetic  stars, 
Yet  cramped  by  poverty's  unyielding  bars  ? 
Earth  charged  with  force  to  fill  all  right  desires, 
And  men  not  daring  to  connect  the  wires  ? 

Resolved  :  that  Nature's  bounty  is  for  Man  !  — 
For  all  enough,  for  none  neglect  or  ban. 
Resolved  :  for  Mother's  babes  is  Mother's  breast !  — 
A  cupboard  and  a  couch  in  one  dear  nest. 

There  is  a  glory  dawning  for  the  race ! 
Each  passing  year  adds  beauty  to  its  face, 
Each  year  adds  richer  lustre  to  its  eye, 
Each  year  the  heart  can  feel  it  drawing  nigh. 
As  yet,  we  fathom  not  its  shape  or  hue, 
But  it  shall  vivify  mankind  like  dew, 


24        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

And  add  transcendent  grace  and  loftier  worth 
To  virtue,  toil,  and  genius  of  the  earth. 

Our  Mother  hails  us  !    Comrades, — women,  men  !  — 
All  ye  who  honor  her !  with  voice  and  pen 
Do  something — loftily  —  from  day  to  day 
To  bring  the  year  for  which  the  nations  pray, 
When  none  of  needed  bounty  shall  go  bare, 
But  all  in  Nature's  wealth  have  ample  share. 

How  shall  we  put  our  knowledge  best  to  use  ?  — 
By  freeing  earth  from  error  and  abuse. 
Cherish  your  brothers  in  the  daily  stress,  — 
The  calculus  uncovers  a  caress. 

The  Mother  sings  sweet  lullaby ; 

Her  love  would  banish  moan. 
Oh,  who  will  walk  a  mile  with  me 

To  bring  to  Man  his  own  ? 

And  not  America  alone  is  ours 
To  lift  to  beauty  and  adorn  with  flowers. 
Love  fails  which  circles  land  and  kin  alone ; 
Its  lines  must  reach  to  farthest  race  and  zone. 
Earth's  wine  must  flow  and  pity's  accents  plead 
Not  less  for  Congo's  good  than  Belgium's  need  ; T 
The  right  must  rule,  love  lisp  its  sweet  "  Bismillah," 
No  surer  in  New  England  than  Manila.2 

1  The  date  of  this  poem  was  the  period  of  the  Congo  atrocities 
and  (2)  of  the  Philippine  controversy. 


MAN'S    TRIUMPH -ERA  25 

How  shall  our  " love  of  wisdom"  guide  our  lives  ?  — x 
By  nursing  prostrate  justice  till  it  thrives. 
Put  well  your  knowledge  to  some  frequent  use,  — 
The  Alpine  blossom  yields  its  saving  juice. 
The  truth  comes  nearest  in  each  latest  deed 
Where  earth  is  helped,  or  they  are  raised  who  bleed. 

Man's  triumph-era  calls,  and  we 

Should  hasten  it  with  song. 
Oh,  who  will  walk  a  mile  with  me 

To  free  the  earth  of  Wrong ! 

Of  War,  and  Woe,  and  Wrong ! 

XII 

Day's  lengthening  shadows  with  the  twilight  blend  ; 
Fraternal  ramblings  all  at  last  have  end. 

One  inspiration  let  our  journey  give, 
By  which  our  hearts  in  hopefulness  shall  live  : 
The  world  grows  better  !     If  the  paths  of  wrong 
Seem  many,  and  the  road  to  virtue  long, 
This  only  means  that  Man's  ideals  are  high, 
And  patience  needed  by  who  climbs  the  sky. 

Let  knowledge  grow ;  let  men  discern  their  power 
To  guide  and  curb  the  instincts  which  devour, 
Till  all  the  mighty  passion  of  the  race 
Shall  tend  to  helpfulness  and  health  and  grace. 
Here  on  this  planet,  —  Nature's  offspring  high,  — 
Called  anthropos  because  he  fronts  the  sky,  — 

1  See  significance  of  "  Phi  Beta  Kappa,"  page  3. 


26        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

Man's  upward  look  has  brought  him  on  his  way 
From  life's  deep  valley  shadows  to  the  day. 
And  upward,  upward  still,  his  feet  shall  climb, 
His  eyes  still  lifted  to  the  hills  sublime. 

Be  ours  of  all  men  —  claiming,  as  we  do, 
Philosophy  life's  blissful  avenue  — 
To  stand  with  love's  rebuke  and  stalwart  arm 
Across  each  path  which  threatens  human  harm, 
Still  lifting  high,  with  faith  that  never  halts, 
The  flame  which  human  destiny  exalts ; 
Till  hoping,  longing  nations,  near  and  far, 
All  rise  and  follow  when  they  see  the  star. 


POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 


II 

THE    EPIC    OF    MAN 


Read  at  the  Forty-first  Annual  Convention  and 

Festival  of  the  Free  Religious  Association 

of  America,  Boston,  May  29,  1908 


*  * 


[The  Free  Religious  Association  of  America  was  founded  in  1867 
as  an  affirmation  of  breadth  in  the  interpretation  of  religion.  Its 
first  recorded  member  was  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson.  Among  its 
Presidents,  Vice-Presidents,  and  Directors  have  been  Thomas  Went- 
worth  Higginson,  Julia  Ward  Howe,  George  William  Curtis,  Lucretia 
Mott,  Moncure  D.  Conway,  Isaac  M.  Wise,  Octavius  Brooks  Froth- 
ingham,  Frederick  Douglass,  Frank  Sanborn,  Edwin  D.  Mead,  Jenkin 
Lloyd  Jones,  and  many  others  of  America's  leaders  in  thought,  lovers 
of  Freedom,  and  believers  in  Man.] 


POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

77     THE   EPIC   OF  MAN 


THE    EPIC    OF    MAN 

i 

In  these  rare  days  just  mellowing  into  June 
One  theme  alone  could  form  a  poet's  rune ;  — 
The  theme  of  growth,  of  springing  life  from  death, 
Of  Man  each  year  inhaling  holier  breath. 
Of  Man,  then,  let  me  sing,  this  festal  hour,  — 
His  might,  his  wisdom,  and  his  glorious  dower. 

ii 

When  human  soul  first  knew  itself  as  soul, 
It  did  not  feel  its  wondrous  power  its  own  ; 
Outreaching  to  embrace  the  mighty  whole 
Men  dreamed  the  air  with  gods  and  demons  sown. 
"  Our  deeds  and  speech  are  not  our  own,"  said  they ; 
"  We  speak  and  act  as  Jove  —  or  Brahm  —  may  sway. 
If  Yahweh  curse,  we  sink  beneath  his  frown ; 
As  gods  approve,  so  go  we  up  or  down." 

But  cycles  wheeled,  and  as  his  vision  grew 
Man  found  himself  far  greater  than  he  knew. 

28 


THE    EPIC    OF    MAN  29 

He  found  that  he  himself,  in  human  line, 
Partakes  of,  and  expresses,  the  divine. 
"  Yourselves  are  gods  !  "  was  Nature's  urging  call,— 
"  Not  wind-swept  weeds  upon  a  crumbling  wall !  " 

Thus  all  things  were  transformed  —  for  those  who 

saw ; 

For  those  who  recognized  deep  Nature's  law. 
The  multitude  might  still  for  ages  bend,  — 
As  still  to-day,  —  and  prayers  with  incense  blend  ; 
But  as  for  those  who  caught  the  gleam  divine, 
In  freedom's  birthright  they  would  rise  and  shine ; 
The  universe's  forces  they  would  ride, 
Life's  evils  they  would  learn  to  set  aside, 
And  as  their  might  and  wisdom  gained  in  grace, 
So  loftier  should  rise  the  human  race. 
Their  fellows  might  not  see  —  might  fear  to  try 
To  grasp  the  thunderbolts  which  shook  the  sky ; 
Might  even  crucify  or  strangle  those 
Who  for  their  brambles  offered  them  a  rose ; 
But  for  each  upward  step  which  man  has  taken, 
Some  god  or  devil  from  his  throne  was  shaken, 
Until  at  last  —  as  latest  prophets  see  — 
A  natural  world  awaits  man's  husbandry, 
And  Sinais  now  with  this  new  "  Table  "  shine  :  — 

"THE    NATURAL    ALONE    IS    THE    DIVINE." 


30        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 


in 

The  beauty  of  the  world  still  glows 
As  when  the  eye  first  caught  the  rose. 
Nay !  fairer  is  the  beauty  now, 
Since  human  hands  have  held  the  plow. 

Across  the  heavens  the  spectral  arch 
Beheld  by  Aryans  on  their  march 
Is  wonderful  no  less  to-day 
Than  in  the  primal  epochs.     Nay, 
A  hundredfold  its  grace  has  grown 
Since  man  its  cause  has  seen  and  shown 

The  whip  of  fire  which  lashed  the  skies 
And  scourged  with  terror  ancient  eyes, 
To-day  is  man's  most  helpful  force  — 
His  voice,  his  arm,  his  tireless  horse. 

So  magic  of  the  human  mind 
For  man's  behoof  doth  all  things  bind. 
The  crab  has  burst  to  luscious  fruit, 
The  fangs  are  stricken  from  the  brute, 
The  cactus  blossoms  for  his  meat, 
The  desert  smiles  a  garden  sweet. 

And  soul  —  unfathomed  heights  of  soul 
Are  yet  to  brighten,  Pole  to  Pole ! 
The  ignorance  of  man  shall  cease, 
The  deeper  things  which  bring  him  peace 


THE    EPIC    OF    MAN  31 

Shall  spring  from  out  the  crudeness  now, 
And  bind  sereneness  on  his  brow. 

The  things  that  perish  shall  no  longer 
In  his  high  purpose  be  the  stronger, 

And  all  that  makes  for  strength  and  beauty 
Shall  be  with  him  his  happy  duty. 

IV 

O  patient,  eager  race !  still  seeking  out 
Through  years  —  through  centuries  —  the  Way  of 

Life! 

Vouchsafed  no  revelation  but  the  pain 
Of  error's  consequence,  no  saviour  but  the  joy 
Of  strict  conformity  to  Nature's  scheme ; 
The  deeds  that  mar,  the  forces  that  retard  — 
These  learning  to  avoid  ;  the  deeds  that  build 
And  bring  to  beauty,  and  transform  the  brute 
To  angel's  guise  —  these  following  as  gleams 
That  point  the  traveler  to  rest  and  peace. 

Existence,  then,  resolves  at  last  to  this  : 
That  men  and  nations  sink  to  depths  of  woe, 
Or  rise  to  blessing,  in  exact  degree 
That  Nature's  boundless  forces  are  ungrasped 
And  disobeyed  —  or  loftily  sought  out 
And  loftily  pursued  to  finest  ends. 
For  at  the  heart  of  all  is  core  of  good, 
And  only  good  can  bless  or  bring  to  life, 
And  following  good  is  all  the  Way  of  Peace. 


32        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

O  simple  scheme  !  to  seek  and  know  the  way 
And  walk  in  it  which  bringeth  human  good ! 
And  this  is  man's  chief  end  —  no  tangled  scheme 
Of  brain-wrought  fantasy,  in  ignorance  born, 
Upspringing  in  the  years  when  Nature's  ways 
Were  undiscerned,  uncared  for,  or  opposed  ;  — 
But  loving  search  and  high  obedience. 


What  universal  powers  uplift  man's  life 
Work  but  through  man  himself  ;  —  no  power  outside, 
Without  his  high,  co-operative  zeal, 
Exalts  him  or  brings  larger  loveliness, 
Or  eases  pain,  or  lessens  any  woe. 
High  voice  thus  opes  to  man's  interior  ear, 
And  bids  him  bring,  himself,  on  earth,  the  joy 
For  which  through  ages  he  in  vain  has  sought 
Uplifting  hands  of  prayer  imploringly  ! 

Still  pray  for  peace  and  still  rear  battle-ships  ? 
Nay,  brothers,  if  ye  long  for  beauteous  peace, 
Beseech  no  more  the  seven-fold  silent  heavens 
While  still  up-piling  armaments  of  death  ; 
But  you  yourselves  bring  peace  —  by  brotherhood  ! 
Since  brothers'  dawn  't  is  brotherhood  which  aye 
For  brothers  hath  wrought  magic  loveliness  — 
And  so  shall  be  till  all  mankind  are  one. 

The  blossoms  which  in  Maytime  flood  the  peach, 
Till  it  reveals  a  fragrant  glory-zone 
Prophetic  of  the  luscious  fruit  to  be, 


THE    EPIC    OF    MAN  33 

Are  not  more  beautiful  than  brothers'  love, 
Nor  surer  prophecy  of  sun-kissed  fruit. 

But  should  the  peach-tree,  in  its  springtime  glow, 
Make  wanton  with  its  marvel  of  delight  — 
Possessed  it  power  to  use  its  bursting  bloom 
As  missiles  only,  for  companions'  woe  — 
What  wreck  of  might !  what  harvest  unfulfilled  ! 

Behold  !  a  coming  harvest-time  of  good 
When  man's  sweet  promise  is  not  wantoned  more ! 

What  sting  or  grief,  my  brothers,  would  remain, 
What  rare  delight  would  languish  unfulfilled, 
If  men  themselves  should  but  arise  supreme, 
In  high  co-operation  each  with  each  ? 

VI 

While  Nature  smiles  on  every  vale  and  steep, 
Do  children  starve  and  willing  workers  weep  ? 
Do  women  in  their  misery  despair, 
And  birth  their  babes  where  rabbits  would  not  lair  ? 
While  Earth,  with  welcome  of  rich  fruit  and  grain, 
Bids  all  to  plenteous  comfort  to  attain, 
Do  some,  by  wrong  of  circumstance  or  greed, 
Make  life  a  luxury  through  others'  need  ? 

Rejoice  !  the  happy  hour  of  clearer  sight 
Is  coming,  when  the  rule  shall  be  of  Right ; 
When  none  shall  eat  unless  he  also  work, 
And  none  shall  wish  his  rightful  task  to  shirk, 
And  none  shall  toil  until  his  soul  is  dull 
And  shut  from  prospect  of  the  beautiful, 


34        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

But  work  and  leisure  in  their  proper  part 
Shall  bring,  for  all,  rich  happiness  of  heart. 
The  weeds  of  selfish  sloth  and  cramping  need 
Shall  wither  in  the  growths  from  sweeter  seed ; 
Then  woman's  equal  worth  shall  be  confessed, 
Her  equal  toils  with  equal  prize  be  blest ; 
Disease  shall  vanish,  and  destroying  lust 
To  mouldering  Caves  of  the  Outgrown  be  thrust 
By  simpler  living  and  a  loftier  aim, 
Born  of  the  might  which  soul  may  ever  claim 
By  drinking  at  the  mighty  springs  of  power 
Which  throb  around  us  as  our  natural  dower. 

The  mighty  Presence  which  involves  us  all  — 
Each  human  soul,  each  whirling,  skyey  ball ; 
Which  thrills  through  all,  and  lifts  from  crude  to  fair  ; 
The  Mystery  unsolved,  yet  which  doth  bear 
In  its  deep  bosom  balm  for  all  our  strife, 
The  Fountain,  and  the  Ocean,  of  our  life,  — 
We  never  nearer  than  to-day  may  reach 
To  grasp  its  secret  for  our  futile  speech, 
But  ever  deeper,  Man  shall  enter  in 
To  use  it,  and  its  grace  of  being  win. 

Be  this  enough  !  it  is  our  heaven  of  hope, 
And  Life  Eternal  is  to  climb  its  slope. 
No  outer  miracle  shall  bring  it  near, 
Though  sought  by  man  in  love  or  sought  in  fear ; 
But  Man  himself  must  gain  the  sunlit  height, 
And  share  with  every  soul  its  air  and  light. 


THE    EPIC    OF    MAN  35 

VII 

Is  this  the  Church's  work  ? '  —  I  do  not  know  ! 
But  't  is  the  only  way  the  world  shall  grow. 
If  still  the  Church  upon  man's  side  would  be, 
It  needs  but  open  clearer  eyes  and  see. 
The  Church  may  do  it,  or  may  fail  to  do, 
But  Man  shall  do  it  —  helped  by  me  and  you. 

Oh,  happy  opportunity  !  to  share 
In  making  life  thus  beautiful  and  fair ! 
You  men  and  women  of  this  race  divine, 
Your  light  amid  dispersing  gloom  let  shine ! 
Let  not  the  Past's  unwisdom  shape  To-day  ! 
Rebuke  the  thought  which  in  the  gloom  would  stay  ! 
Whatever  gods  may  be  beyond  our  ken 
Are  highest  served  by  serving  fellow  men ; 
Whatever  demons  people  lowest  hell 
Are  fastest  chained  by  human  doing  well. 

Be  ours  to  smile,  to  sing,  to  work  for  good, 
To  know  that  Justice  cannot  be  withstood, 
To  know  that  Right  shall  yet  illume  the  earth  — 

IF    WE    OURSELVES    BUT    GIVE    IT    GLORIOUS    BIRTH. 

VIII 

Sing,  voices  of  all  birds  that  trill  in  June ! 

Your  dear  delight 
Is  symbol  of  the  high  ecstatic  tune, 


1  The  general  topic  at  the  Convention  at  which  this  poem  was  read 
was  The  Work  of  the  Church  To-day. 


36        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

The  radiance  bright, 
Which  shall  encompass  Man  full  soon  —  full  soon 

Shine,  rays  of  myriad  suns  that  gleam  on  high  ! 

Your  glorious  flame 
Is  prophecy  of  lumined  earthly  sky, 

Known  now  in  name, 
And  shortly  to  be  made  sweet  verity ! 

Rise,  human  hearts  !  too  long,  too  long  opprest 

By  forces  crude ! 
The  shackles  spurn  which  leave  you  still  unblest 

Though  born  to  good, 
And  after  ages'  weeping,  enter  rest ! 


POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

///.     MIS  CELL  A  NE  O  US 


ACCELERANT 

i 
For  evil  or  for  good  we  live  each  day ; 

Accelerant  the  good  or  ill  speeds  on. 

Brothers  and  sisters !  ere  earth's  hours  be  gone 
What  will  ye  answer  while  the  nations  pray  ? 

ii 
His  dream  was  some  high  gift  to  Coming  Time. 

But  he  was  powerless  —  what  great  deed  could  he  ! 

Modest  in  name  and  mien,  his  mind  was  free 
And  his  heart  willing.    Was  there  aught  sublime  ? 

Temptation  came  to  him.     He  did  not  lack 
The  taint  of  blood  from  old  heredity 
Urging  him  —  spelling  him.     Yet  valiantly 

On  the  alluring  ill  he  turned  his  back. 

Later  came  one  he  loved,  and  they  were  wed. 
His  children  had  far  less  the  taint  abhorred, 
37 


38        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

While  mind  and  will  were  trebly  in  them  scored. 
They  led  the  world  on  after  he  was  dead. 

m 

Unto  himself  alone  no  man  may  live ; 

Accelerant  his  strength  or  weakness  grows, 
In  blessing  or  in  curse,  where'er  it  flows.  - 

To  coming  ages  what  wilt  thou,  friend,  give  ? 


TO    A    BABY    OF    THE    TWENTIETH 
CENTURY 

Coming  like  the  morning  star 
From  unfathomed  realms  afar  ; 
Flower  of  mingled  sowings  vast 
In  the  generations  past ; 
Promise  of  a  strength  and  peace 
Which  shall  day  by  day  increase,  — 
Baby  !  heir  of  all  the  earth 
Art  thou,  by  thy  very  birth  ! 

Never  in  a  happier  day 
Came  a  child  on  earth  to  stay : 
All  the  comforts  toil  has  wrought, 
All  the  beauty  art  has  brought, 
Grace  of  every  poet's  song,  — 
All  to  thee  by  right  belong ; 


MISCELLANEOUS  39 

While  each  year  now  counts  as  ten 
In  new  benefits  to  men. 

Walking  where  the  light  allures, 
Wisdom,  little  one  !  be  yours 
To  distill  in  coming  years 
Further  balm  for  human  fears, 
Adding  thy  few  hopeful  grains 
To  the  harvest  Love  attains, 
Leaving  earthly  paths  more  sweet 
In  the  passing  of  thy  feet. 


ALPHA    AND    OMEGA 

[1886] 

Dim  in  the  dark  ^Eonian  caves, 

Deep  in  the  Night  of  earliest  Time, 
There  trembled  low  beneath  the  waves 
A  mimic  protoplasmic  sphere,  — 
A  globule  small,  whose  curve  severe 
Bore  in  its  heart  a  germ  sublime. 

Naught  else  in  all  the  universe 

Such  germ  possessed  as  glowed  in  this  ; 
A  germ  whose  warmth  would  soon  disperse 
The  gloom  which  bound  earth's  silent  corse  : 
The  germ  sublime  of  deathless  Force  !  - 
Earth's  mystery  of  mysteries. 


40        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

Lichens  and  moss  now  found  a  place  — 

Or  whence  or  how,  what  tongue  may  tell  ? 
And  ferns  and  grasses  filled  the  space 
Where  erst  dull  clods  and  dust  had  been  ; 
While  rustling  leaves,  with  lips  unseen, 
Called  to  the  Ages,  "  All  is  well." 

Lizards  and  dragons,  monstrous  forms, 

Sights  that  men's  eyes  would  shrink  to  see 
Shrieks  above  elemental  storms  !  — 
Ah  !  through  what  pain  was  life  evolved  ! 
Only  through  death  and  conquest  solved,  — 
Struggle  and  blood  and  agony. 

But  see  !  a  kindlier  hour  should  come  ! 

Rapine  and  force  sank,  shrinking,  low  ; 
Thought,  invention,  showed  fairer  sum. 
Hither  came  Man  !  —  yes,  crude  indeed, 
But  climbing  to  heart  and  mind  with  speed. 
On  him  the  gods  their  best  bestow. 

Love,  aspiration,  —  powers  sublime  ! 

Sympathy,  help,  —  these  Now  have  place. 
O  for  the  years  of  Coming  Time  !  — 
What  shall  they  bring  of  better  yet  ? 
Courage  !  not  yet  man's  sun  is  set. 
Good  is  in  store  for  all  the  race. 


MISCELLANEOUS  41 


UP   TO    THE    HEIGHTS 

I  dreamed  the  statue  of  a  god 
Stood  high  in  every  market-place, 
That  all  who  thither  toiling  trod 
Might  see  the  beauty  of  a  face 
Noble,  and  freed  in  every  trace 
From  want,  from  selfishness,  from  sin. 
Yet  seemed  it  of  the  human  race, 
Nor  wholly  difficult  to  win. 

Indeed,  thrice  daily,  morn,  noon,  night, 
To  all  the  hurriers  to  and  fro 
Each  statue  spake  :  "  The  Cosmos  bright, 
Each  gracious  force,  above,  below, 
Earth's  possibilities  but  show  ! 
Man  can  attain  whate'er  he  feels ; 
Up  to  the  heights  't  is  yours  to  go ; 
Your  gods  are  but  your  high  ideals." 

Is  this  the  Vision  of  the  Race  ? 
This  its  high  nobleness  of  heart  ? 
Be  ours  to  win  that  finer  grace, 
Ours  to  do  valiantly  our  part ! 
Thus  from  the  race's  ranks  shall  start 
The  sonship  truly  of  the  Best, 
And  Love's  divine  and  perfect  art 
Henceforth  be  man's  redeeming  quest. 


42        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 


WHAT  ARE   WE    HERE    FOR? 

What  are  we  here  for,  brothers  mine, 

Upon  this  Road  of  Life  ? 
What  mean  for  us  the  stars  that  shine, 

The  fields  with  beauty  rife  ? 
What  power  hath  truth  to  stir  our  zeal  ? 

What  cry  hath  human  need  ? 
'Mid  earth's  conflicting  woe  and  weal, 

What  voices  should  we  heed  ? 

What  are  we  here  for  ?     Here  to  grow 

In  every  grace  divine  ! 
The  beauty  of  the  world  to  know, 

And  in  its  beauty  shine ; 
To  follow  truth  where'er  it  lies, 

Through  loneliness  and  scorn ; 
To  hold  earth's  bounty  equal  prize 

Of  every  child  that 's  born. 

What  are  we  here  for  in  this  maze 

Which  no  man  yet  hath  solved  ? 
Here  to  achieve  the  noblest  days 

Since  first  the  sphere  revolved  ! 
Not  ours  to  dull  the  soul  with  mirth, 

Outdrowning  human  groan, 
But  ours  to  sublimate  the  earth 

And  bring  to  Man  his  own. 


MISCELLANEOUS  43 


THE    GREAT 

Around  me  often,  when  the  twilight  fades, 
Come  figures  giant-brained,  heroic-hearted  ; 
In  ghostly  vigil  rise  the  Great  Departed,  — 

Of  earth's  most  valiant-souled  the  deathless  shades. 

They  stand  upon  a  background  glory-walled, 
Returned  a  little  from  the  fields  Elysian. 
As  saw  the  Tuscan  in  sublimest  vision, 

So  see  I  these,  and  stand  enrapt,  enthralled. 

They  move  before  me  with  majestic  tread, 

Alive  again  !  for  me  anew-created  ; 

In  mind  and  figure  rehabilitated. 
Though  gone  from  earth  the  Great  are  never  dead. 

The  Great  ?     Who  are  the  Great  ?     From  distant 

climes, 
From  years  that  mould  with  age  and  torture's 

wailing, 

Within  my  ken  a  weary  host  come  sailing,  — 
The  grave  gives  up  old  "  heroes  "  of  old  times. 

Eastward  with  pomp,  from  Macedonia's  gate, 
Seeking  what  Asia  to  his  lust  might  pander, 
I  see  the  drunken  glutton,  Alexander, 

Cruel  and  vicious,  gain  his  laurel,  "  Great." 


44        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

Thin-visaged,  thundering  at  earth's  western  door, 
I  see  great  Julius  in  Transalpine  valleys. 
How  flee  the  Gauls  at  his  majestic  sallies  ! 

How  faint  they  at  the  fearless  front  he  wore ! 

Men  hail  him  as  he  heads  his  cavalcade,  — 

"  O  Caesar !   where  the  warrior  that  can  match 

you ! " 
But,  shivering  at  the  base  of  Pompey's  statue, 

I  see  the  rent  the  envious  Casca  made. 

Fighter  of  battles,  not  in  cause  of  Right, 
But  to  his  kingdom  to  add  lands  and  oceans, 
Peter  of  Russia  —  fertile  in  high  notions, 

Fertile  in  baseness  —  ranges  into  sight. 

Near  him,  great  Frederick,  Prussia's  lofty  man, 
Great  in  his  will-power  —  great  in  his  excesses ! 
Little  in  all  that  elevates  and  blesses  ; 

Breaker  of  treaties,  liar  and  charlatan. 

The  slaughterer  of  hordes  unveils  his  face  — 
Napoleon,  the  dazzling  and  tremendous  ! 
What  Power,  what  Progress,  did  his  blood-reign 
lend  us  ? 

A  ruined  country,  an  impoverished  race ! 

Thus  sadly  come  they  —  from  years  old  and  late  — 
A  wan,  deluded  army,  vulture-haunted, 
The  host  a  world's  mad  dream  has  hero-vaunted, 

Playing  their  life-part  out  —  "the  brave,"  "the  Great." 


MISCELLANEOUS  45 

Alas  !  how  little  in  them  all  we  see 

Of  what  we  call  the  gracious,  the  diviner ! 
Than  all  this  brutehood  is  there  nothing  finer  ? 

Oh,  turn  we  where  sublimity  may  be  ! 

Yea,  hither,  hither  come,  O  Persian  Saint, 
O  Buddha  of  Nepaul,  O  Syrian  Jesus  ! 
No  longer  deeds  of  blood  and  conflict  please  us ; 

For  heights  of  soul  —  for  love  —  our  spirits  faint : 

For  those  who  from  life's  discords  brought  a  tone 
Of  richest  truth  and  harmony  to  greet  us  ;  — 
Pythagoras,  Isaiah,  Epictetus, 

Saviours  in  every  era,  every  zone ; 

For  Seneca,  Contentment's  messenger ; 

For  Socrates,  of  all  souls  lofty,  breezy  ; 

The  Nature-lover,  Francis  of  Assizi ; 
Aurelius,  the  inward  ponderer  ; 

The  early  scientists  of  Nile  and  Greece, 

Our  own  rare  searchers,   Humboldt,  Darwin, 

Spencer  ;  — 
Above  them  all  there  waves  the  golden  censer 

Whose  fragrance  stills  life's  harshnesses  to  peace. 

Yea,  those  are  mortal  ;  these,  immortal  ones, 
The  world's  unselfish,  its  true  blessing-bringers, 
Its  painters,  sculptors,  freedom-lovers,  singers, 

Its  Shakespeares,  Burnses,  Lowells,  Emersons. 


46        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

And  so  of  all  the  myriad  "  nameless  "  men, 
The  faithful  women,  lovers  of  self-giving, 
Who  lived  for  something  higher  than  mere  living, 

And,  losing,  have  yet  doubly  gained  again  ! 

These  are  the  heroes  men  to-day  adore, 
These  are  the  valiant  ones  above  all  story ; 
This  is  the  pathway  to  the  modern  glory 

Which  down  the  years  with  added  power  shall  pour  : 

The  Greatness  that  the  world  shall  recognize 
In  conquest  over  all  its  pain  and  sinning,  — 
The  Love  which  was  not  at  earth's  far  beginning, 

But  now  is  here,  and  saves  and  sanctifies. 


NO    MORE 

No  more  the  world  lifts  laurel-leaves  to  crown 
The  wielder  of  the  battle-axe  and  spear. 
The  trade  that  filled  the  earth  with  fear 

And  robbed  the  mother  of  her  hard-won  prize 

Her  baby  with  the  golden  hair  and  eyes 
Just  grown  to  manhood,  fit  for  fair  renown  — 

The  trade  that  wrecked  with  woe 
Wide  fields  all  billowy  with  ripened  grain, 

And  turned  the  rivers'  healing  flow 
To  currents  red  with  wrathful  stain  — 


MISCELLANEOUS  47 

That  trade  is  passing  from  the  earth. 
No  longer  entered  on  with  mirth, 

War  now  is  known 
As  thing  the  most  obscene 
'Mong  all  the  things  terrene  ; 
A  shame  to  be  outgrown, 
Unmasked  in  all  its  evil  mien  ; 
And  conquerors  are  but  butchers  whose  red  hands 
No  more  triumphant  wave  through  cheering  lands, 
But  nerveless  fall  at  love's  divine  commands. 


THE   WAIL  OF   LOW   HUMANITY 

[1885] 

Ah,  whither  shall  we  look,  and  whither  turn  ?  — 

Life's  road  is  bleak  ! 

About  us  fiercely  wrongs  and  passions  burn  : 
For  fairer  destiny  our  spirits  yearn. 

Where  shall  we  look  ?  —  ah,  whither  shall  we  seek  ? 

For  we  are  weak. 

Up  to  the  silent  heavens  in  vain  we  raise 

Our  blinded  sight. 

Men  through  the  ages,  through  long  years  and  days, 
Their  supplications  fond,  in  prayer  and  praise, 

Have  raised  with  looks  like  ours,  and  faces  white  — 
Yet  sank  in  Night. 


48        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

To  You,  then,  who  have  fought  with  Fate  like  us, 

And  gained  a  place  !  — 
Who  by  no  aid  or  gift  miraculous 
Have  fled  the  Woe,  the  Vale  Calamitous, 

But  in  Man's  natural  might  alone,  and  grace, 

Have  won  life's  race,  — 

To  You,  O  Brothers  higher  up,  we  turn ! 

Our  human  kin  ! 

Lendj/^  the  means  for  us  life's  heights  to  earn. 
Uplift  with  love,  where  now  your  brows  are  stern. 
Do  ye  o'erturn  for  us  earth's  wrong  and  sin,— 

And  let  us  in. 


JUSTICE  !     FREEDOM  ! 

How  shall  all  mankind  be  lifted, 

Strength  be  brought  to  weakness  lowly, 

Toil's  oppression-clouds  be  rifted, 
Right  be  recognized  as  holy  ? 

Many  eras,  many  sages, 

Life's  sublimer  words  have  spoken : 
Flee  your  blood-stained  heritages  ! 

Justice  !  Freedom  !  —  these  the  token. 


MISCELLANEOUS  49 


COURAGE,    O    WORKERS! 

Blithely  the  birds  in  the  treetops  are  shouting  their 
matins. 

Hark  !  do  you  hear  their  glad  notes  —  their  seraphic 
rejoicing? 

Nay,  't  is  the  winter's  gray  fields  where  we  toil  and 
endeavor ! 

Far  in  the  Southland  they  warble,  those  orioles  splen 
did  : 

Give  us  their  olive  and  palm,  their  rich  tropical 
splendor, 

Give  us  their  warmth  and  their  ease  —  then  our  praise 
theirs  shall  equal ! 

Softly  the  zephyr  chants  runes  through  the  leaves  of 

the  laurel. 
Hush  !   do  you  feel  on  your  cheeks  its  caress  as  it 

passes  ? 

Nay,  't  is  a  Boreal  blast  from  the  caves  of  the  Arctic, 
Hurling  its  arrows  of  sleet,  that  we  feel  in  our  faces! 
Somewhere  for  others  —  a  few  —  may  blow  cinnamon 

breezes ; 
Not  for  Man  yet  as  a  whole  are  life's  sunny  Bermudas. 

Up  the  wide  beach  curl  the  crests  of  the  beckoning 
waters. 


50        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

Softly  they  break  and  submerge  the  gay  circles  of 

bathers 
Stretched  on  the  sands  or  pursuing  each  other  with 

laughter. 
Join  in   their  care-free  delight,  O  my  brothers,  my 

comrades ! 
Nay,  through  the  ice  of  the  ages  we  strive  and  go 

stumbling ! 
Far  from  our  reach  trend  the  shores  of  Man's  southern 

Pacific. 

Courage,   O  thinkers  !   the  systems  of   men  are  but 

transient. 

Only  the  system  of  Man  is  unique  and  forever ! 
Man  is  the  one,  the  eternal,  the  mighty,  triumphant  ! 
All  that  is  falsehood  he  spurns  as  the  centuries  hasten, 
All  that  is  wrong  he  outgrows  as  his  vision  increases ; 
Man  is  himself  of  his  future  the  master  and  builder. 

Courage,  then,  workers !  we  strive  not  in  vain  in  the 
conflict ! 

Upward  he  climbs  —  the  rude  man-child  his  glory  dis 
covers  ! 

Truth  shall  be  gained,  and  mankind  through  the  truth 
shall  be  victor. 

Not  for  a  few,  but  for  all,  are  life's  heights  and  life's 
splendors  — 

Summits  of  thought  and  of  will !  of  the  soul !  of  the 
spirit ! 

Hasten,  O  earth,  to  Equality,  Brotherhood,  Freedom  ! 


MISCELLANEOUS  51 


GOOD    SHALL   CONQUER,   NEVER 
FEAR 

[  Tune,  "  Triumph  By-and-by  "  ] 

Be  we  the  courage-bringers  ! 
Let  laugh  the  bells,  O  ringers ! 
Earth's  hero-hearts  and  singers 

Promise  peace. 

Despair  and  grief  why  borrow  — 
Full  long  has  man  had  sorrow ! 
Work,  joyful,  for  the  morrow,  — 

Wrong  shall  cease. 

Chorus.  —  Never  fear  !  Light  is  growing  ! 
Never  fear  !  Truth  is  flowing 
Where  humanity  shall  share  it,  — 

Never  fear ! 

Never  fear  !  clouds  are  fleeing  ; 
Never  fear  !  men  are  seeing 
That  the  Good  at  last  shall  conquer,  — 

Never  fear ! 

With  hope  and  high  endeavor 
Earth's  great  have  striven  ever 
The  bonds  of  ill  to  sever,  — 
We  may  trust ! 


52        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

The  Past's  prophetic  preaching, 
The  Present's  clearer  teaching, 
The  Future's  forward-reaching,  — 
Win  they  must  ! 

Chorus.  —  Never  fear  !  Light  is  growing  ! 
Never  fear  !  Truth  is  flowing,  etc. 

Man  yet  is  onward  striving, 
All  happy  Art  is  thriving, 
The  Age  of  Good  arriving,  — 

Give  it  scope ! 

The  heights  of  Being  call  us  ; 
If  doubt  nor  fear  appall  us 
Life's  splendor  shall  befall  us,  — 

Work  and  hope ! 

Chorus.  —  Never  fear  !   Light  is  growing  ! 
Never  fear  !  Truth  is  flowing 
Where  humanity  shall  share  it,  — 

Never  fear  ! 

Never  fear  !  clouds  are  fleeing  ; 
Never  fear  !  men  are  seeing 
That  the  Good  at  last  shall  conquer,  - 

Never  fear  ! 


POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

IV.     SONNETS 


THE    DAYSPRING 

Earth's  night  is  waning !     Beautiful  and  fair 
The  dayspring  flashes  gold  across  the  deep. 
I  see  the  wailing  nations  cease  to  weep, 
For  War  and  Want  lie  wounded  in  their  lair 

And  know  their  end  approacheth.    Stricken,  —  bare, 
Bewildered  by  the  Day,  —  the  selfish  heap 
Of  woes  that  thrive  in  darkness  take  their  leap 
To  escape  the  sunbeams  netting  in  their  hair. 

O  human  race !  whose  hope-illumined  heart 
Greets  light  with  light  in  answering  ecstasy, 
Let  Love  and  Wisdom  flame  to  more  and  more ! 

Flame  till  there  shines  on  every  field  and  mart 
The  longed-for,  deathless  day  of  Liberty, 
And  every  sea  laps  sunlit  Plenty's  shore. 


53 


54        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 


RECIPROCATION 

Men  in  all  ages  have  sowed  seed  for  me, 

And  I  have  plucked  the  ripened  fruit  and  grain. 
Through  toil  of  hand  and  weariness  of  brain 
They  brought  a  wealth  of  luxury  to  be, 

And  I  inherit  it.     The  good  I  see 

And  thoughtless  thrive  in,  comes  by  their  long  pain. 
Vassals  of  Nature,  they  threw  off  the  chain 
And  handed  me  their  hard-won  liberty. 

What  then  ?  shall  I  but  take  ?     Nay,  also  give, 
As  eager  to  enhance  the  age-long  charm, 
And  Man  still  higher  reach,  still  wider  hope, 

With  simpler,  purer  pleasures  learn  to  live, 

'Gainst  wrongs  still  rampant  lift  redemptive  arm, 
To  Love's  best  energies  give  loftier  scope. 


THE    NEW    CREATORS 

How  blest  am  I,  who  number  in  my  friends 
Rare  souls  whose  labors  glorify  the  earth  !  - 
Who  seek  not  honors,  but  with  eager  worth 
Urge  human  destiny  to  highest  ends. 

They  toil  heart  buoyant,  though  the  world  contends ; 
With  mild  persistence  they  transfigure  dearth 
To  fulness  ;  and  they  meet  that  higher  birth  — 
Life  "  saved  "  by  who  alone  life  freely  spends. 


SONNETS  55 

As  War  is  ended ;  as  Man's  age-long  blight 

Of  Ignorance  is  vanquished,  and  his  Will  beguiled 
To  tame  earth's  crudeness ;  as  to  every  child 

Who  calls  the  Earth  his  Mother  more  shall  flow 
Of  her  abundance  —  so  these  friends  may  know 
They  are  "as  gods,"  from  Chaos  wringing  Light. 


DREAM -PROPHECY 

I  dreamed  last  night  of  standing  amid  flowers 
That  danced  and  nodded  in  the  fragrant  air. 
Charmed  with  their  grace  I  called  and  called,  till 

there 
Were  eager  throngs  all  plucking  from  the  bowers, 

Each  handing  best  to  each.     My  dream  seemed  hours 
While  young  and  gray,  the  haggard  and  the  fair, 
Kept  plucking  —  yet  the  beds  grew  never  bare, 
But  faster  blossomed.     Human  song,  "  Ours, 
ours  !  — 

Not  mine  or  thine,  but  ours  ! "  outrang  as  sweet 
As  glee  of  thrushes.     His  dear  hands  flung  high, 
A  child  held  roses  for  his  sire  to  view ; 

A  man  wreathed  poppies  round  his  mother's  feet  : 
"For  the  first  time,  dear  heart,"  I  heard  him  cry, 
"  Earth's  gifts  to  all  men  are  for  me  and  you !  " 


56        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 


LOWELL 

What  was  thy  Message,  Poet,  to  our  day  ? 

What  call  of  God,  earth's  meanness  to  retrieve  ?  . 

As  when  one  stands  upon  a  hill  at  eve, 

And  sees  rich  valleys  fade  in  growing  gray, 
Till  blooming  field  and  forest-girdled  bay 

Are  lost  in  gloom,  and  man  and  Nature  grieve  ; 

Yet,  glancing  up,  finds  splendors  that  relieve,  - 

Star-hosts  that  hold  on  high  their  glowing  way  : 
So,  in  an  age  with  richest  gainings  fraught, 

Men  have  seen  Greatness  fade,  and  feared  the 
worst ! 

Seen  selfishness  down-settle  like  a  pall ! 
But  lo  !  Man's  power  divine  to  reach  the  OugJit  — 

This  the  glad  light  which  on  thy  vision  burst, 

Prophetic  of  Love  lord  at  last  o'er  all. 


IN   ADMIRATION    OF  WORLD- 
HELPERS 

O  earnest  Fathers  !  sweet-faced  Sisterhood  ! 

Martyrs  and  Saints  of  whate'er  faith  or  dress ! 

Self-spent  through  years  so  none  be  comfortless, 

In  thought  of  others,  self  in  self  subdued  ! 
Striving  to  make  mankind  more  pure  and  good 

By  warning  word  and  all  unused  caress  ; 

Earth's  saviours  ever  from  perfidiousness, 


SONNETS  57 

Yet  scourged  and  scorned  ;   oft  lacking  fire  and 
food! 

Would  that  To-day  —  this  trebly  fine  To-day  — 

We  your  helped  brothers  'mid  the  world's  mad  strife 
Might  through  your  love  and  sacrifices  rare 

Be  led  to  walk  your  same  strong,  towering  way  : 
Calming  the  world  that  hungereth  for  life 
By  breath  of  Brotherhood's  supernal  air. 


CHILDREN'S    CHILDREN1 

The  Demon  Deities  of  Air  and  Flood 

Still  crumble  cities  and  o'ersurge  men's  fields ; 
Ambitious  War  still  drenches  lands  with  blood, 
And  Avarice  its  weedy  harvest  yields. 

Man's  conquest,  Nature !  of  thy  forces  vast 

Is  but  begun  —  thy  power  still  checks  his  pride; 
But  wait  :  his  skill  thy  crudeness  shall  recast, 
And  calm  thy  winds,  thy  river-courses  guide. 

His  rein  already  is  upon  thy  neck  ; 

On  thine  too,  Carnage  !  —  slink  into  thy  cage  ! 
And  be  thou  just,  O  Greed,  ere  might  shall  check; 
Man  knows  thee  mortal  as  he  comes  of  age. 

Ye  weep,  earth's  creatures,  in  the  present  hour ; 

Sing  too !  in  forecast  of  your  children's  dower. 


1  Written  at  the  time  of  the  Western  cyclones  and  the  Southern 
floods,  and  of  the  Turkish  and  Balkan  massacres  (1913). 


58        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 


DETRITUS 


Could  they  who  till  the  Mississippi's  vales  — 

Through  thousand  thousand  leagues  far-stretched 

and  fair  — 

Know  well  what  wealth  of  distant  mountain  stair 
Has  crumbled  to  endow  their  verdant  dales ; 

Could  they  but  hear  the  pounding  of  old  gales 
In  lands  of  Seneca  and  Crow  and  Bear, 
Or  count  the  centuries  the  sun  and  air 
Have  filched  from  forest-lands  with  silent  flails  : 

Did  they  thus  ken  how  came  their  rich  black  earth,  — 
By  grain  and  grain  from  Gardens  of  the  Gods, 
From  skyey  lines  far  yonder  out  of  reach 

Where  Allegheny,  Yellowstone,  have  birth,  — 
What  new  luxuriance  would  star  their  sods, 
How  costlier  far  would  gleam  each  vine  and  peach  ! 

ii 

O  humankind  !     From  hills  where  darkness  hides, 
From  lands  of  old  where  lava-torrents  hum, 
Down  river-ways  tumultuous  thou  hast  come,  — 
With  yet  small  lodgment  found  where  grain  abides. 

How  slow  the  centuries  !  how  blind  the  guides  ! 
The  multitude  —  how  deaf  and  halt  and  dumb  ! 
Yet  steadily  Love's  wealth  adds  sum  to  sum, 
And  age  by  age  the  flood  of  Wrong  subsides. 


SONNETS  59 

O  smiling  plains  where  yet  the  rose  shall  bloom, 
The  rose  of  Health,  the  lilies  white  of  Peace, 
And  every  golden  grain  and  fruitful  vine  : 

For  thy  blest  fields  we  labor  to  make  room, 
Where  bitterness  of  Dead  Sea  fruit  shall  cease 
And  life  grow  rich  on  mingled  oil  and  wine. 


in 

And  thou  —  Myself  !     Thou,  too,  in  hills  unknown 
Hadst  thy  far  rising,  and  thy  lineage 
Lies  dimly  writ  on  equi-distant  page 
With  nebulae  ere  earth  knew  sea  or  zone. 

Dread  mystery  of  Being !  epochs  lone 
Onworking  steadily  with  mete  and  gauge 
To  urge  old  Chaos  into  Cosmic-stage 
And  bring  the  Age  of  Man  from  Age  of  Stone ! 

Thine  ancestry  —  in  body  and  in  mind  — 
The  fathers  of  thy  healthfullness  or  pains, 
The  mothers  of  thy  victories  and  fears, 

Oh,  who  shall  probe  thy  secret  depths  and  find ! 
Small  clue  thou  boldest  whom  to  thank  for  gains, 
Or  who  it  is  that  weepeth  in  thy  tears. 


IV 

Did  some  progenitor  who  loved  the  lyre 
Chant  to  the  sunrise  in  the  ages  gray  ?  — 
Is  that,  O  Self,  whenever  thou  wouldst  pray, 
Why  songs  ecstatic  in  thy  soul  aspire  ? 


6o        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 

Wilful  or  blindly,  did  some  other  sire 

Cry  to  his  passions,  "  Have  thy  fill  to-day  "  ?  — 
Came  thus  thy  torture  when  thou  wouldst  obey 
The  law  of  virtue  —  all  thy  frame  on  fire? 

The  Past  is  gone  :  it  is  not  dead,  but  past : 

Its  good  aggrandize  —  Time  will  ease  its  wrong. 
The  Present  and  the  Future  —  these  thy  quest ! 

Live  that,  when  gaze  of  distant  years  is  cast 

Back  to  thy  time  by  those  whose  lives  are  strong, 
Their  tribute  be,  "  By  him  the  world  was  blest ! " 


MEDITATION   AFTER   THE    PASSING 
OF    ERNEST   CROSBY 

How  many  stalwart  saviours  of  the  race  — 

Dear  friends  of  mine  —  have  taken  sudden  way 

Into  the  Cave  of  Silence,  and  there  stay, 

Since  first  Love's  selflessness  I  learned  to  trace ! 

Their  fiery  darts  they  hurled  at  earth's  disgrace,  — 
Then  sank  to  Darkness  from  the  desperate  fray  ; 
While  hordes  —  great  God!  —  still  bask  on  Hills 

of  Day 
And  turn  on  Wrong  an  unimpassioned  face ! 

Oh,  who  shall  dare  to  tread  the  earth  for  naught, 


SONNETS  61 

His  pulse  still  red,  when  even  from  dead  dust 
Of  Great  Ones  soars  an  influence  of  Might ! 
Oh,  meagre  men  are  we  who  yet  have  caught 

No  soul's  contagion  from  their  reverent  "  Must !  " 
No  self-renouncement  for  Man's  larger  right. 


O    STORY-TELLER!    POET! 

Shall  he  his  trust  betray  in  whom  the  spark 
Imperious,  creative,  urges  "  Write"  ?  — 
Content  with  artful  form  and  glow-worm  light 
While  dowered  Prometheus-like  to  lume  the  Dark 

With  godlike  radiance  ?     Lift  your  vision  !  hark, 
O  Story-teller  !  Poet !  —  ye  whose  sight 
Gives  you  to  lessen  Man's  inglorious  plight 
And  lure  his  blindfold  eyes  to  skyey  mark ! 

Sound  ye  the  Word  which  shall  transform  men's 

thought 

Till  they,  enfranchised,  learn  that  lowliest  deed 
For  human  brotherhood  is  loftier  prize 

Than  ocean  contours  for  which  kings  have  fought, 
Or  gold,  the  pallid  recompense  of  greed. 
Dimmed  are  Self's  torches  held  'gainst  Love's 
clear  skies. 


62        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 


RESIDUUM 


Of  all  who  lived  aforetime,  —  hosts  on  hosts,  — 
Dear  dark-eyed  babes  where  reedy  Nilus  swings, 
Sweet  Indian  maids  who  danced  to  vina-strings, 
White  souls  who  peered  through  Persia's  sunrise- 
posts, 

Meek  hordes  who  drooped  on  China's  swarming 

coasts,  — 

Dread  millions  upon  millions  by  the  springs 
Of  Niger,  Danube,  Volga,  —  slaves  and  kings  : 
Of  all  these  now  where  even  are  the  ghosts  ! 

And  yet  they  loved  and  worshiped,  smiled  and  wept, 
Filled  full,  as  we  do,  life's  allotted  page, 
Dreamed  dreams  of  Good,  and  hoped  to  see  its  day. 

When  myriad  suns  have  round  the  planet  crept, 
As  we  of  others,  so  some  curious  age 
May  seek  our  line,  and  wonder,  "  Where  are 
they"! 

ii 

And  lo !  should  some  indeed,  when  we  have  passed, 
Attempt  to  trace  our  footprints  in  earth's  sands, 
Think  not  we  shall  have  wholly  fled  the  lands  : 
What  once  hath  been  doth  somehow  ever  last. 


SONNETS  63 

Dead  dreams  of  Ind  and  Egypt  still  hold  fast 
And  fetter  Thought  in  more  than  iron  bands  ; 
The  labor  of  the  earliest  artist  hands 
Is  with  us  yet  and  gives  our  toil  its  cast. 

O  son  of  man  !     Strong  daughter  of  the  race  ! 
With  you  to-day  the  good  or  ill  resides 
Of  myriad  souls  who  yet  shall  weep  and  pray. 

What  tinge  ye  give  of  white  or  crimson  trace 
To  thought  and  deed,  eternally  abides  : 
Ye  still  shall  live  —  in  saint  or  castaway. 


ENTOMBED 

When  base  Domitian  stained  the  Caesars'  throne, 
A  Vestal  Virgin  dared  rebuke  his  shame. 
Enraged,  he  clouded  her  with  artful  blame, 
Then  buried  her  alive  in  crypt  of  stone. 

What  solace  later,  though  her  truth  was  shown ! 
The  mouldered  ear  responds  to  no  acclaim  : 
Her  eyes  with  dust  estopped — despoiled  in  name  — 
She  long  had  perished,  woeful  and  alone. 

Alone  ?     O  World,  a  host  thou  hast  decried 

And  scourged,  and  buried  in  their  wishful  prime, 
Whom  later  centuries  in  awe  obeyed ! 

Some  ev'n  to-day,  perchance,  are  thrust  aside, 

Entombed  though  living,  who  would  lift  their  time : 
In  dust  of  negligence  all  smothering  laid. 


64        POEMS    OF    HUMAN    PROGRESS 


TO    YIELD 

Darius,  when  perhaps  he  might  have  won, 

In  sudden  fear  forsook  Arbela's  plain. 

No  vantage  then  his  captains  could  maintain, 

And  the  great  day  was  lost,  to  Philip's  son.  .  .  . 
Did  some  prevision,  monarch,  through  thee  run 

That,  shouldst  thou  lose,  the  mighty  world  would 
gain  ? 

That  in  the  triumph-shock  which  knelled  thy  pain 

Asia,  asleep,  should  hear  her  sunrise-gun  ? 
Oft  would  earth's  progress,  for  which  some  men  strive 

With  bitter  tears,  —  yea,  pouring  lavish  blood,  — 

Be  sooner  summoned  if  they  fled  the  field ! 
Outworn  the  methods  which  they  pray  may  thrive  ! 

Mankind  sweeps  past  them  with  resistless  flood. 

Oft  highest  victory  is  still  to  yield. 


POEMS    OF    RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 

/.     MISCELLANEOUS 


EARTH'S    GOLDEN    PRIME    LIES 
INFINITELY   ON 

[1883] 

"  If  ye  continue  in  my  word,"  said  he 

Who  walked  of  old  through  flower-sprent  Galilee, 

"  The  truth  ye  then  shall  know."    Ah,  teacher  great ! 

Thy  word  the  world's  late  years  still  illustrate. 

Thy  gospel  was  of  simplest  thought  and  deed  : 
Two  words  alone  thy  all  embracing  creed,  — 
To  seek  !  to  love  !  —  the  utmost  truth  to  seek  ; 
In  love  for  man  that  utmost  truth  to  speak. 

"And  ye  have  heard  it  said  of  olden  time, 

'  Lo,  this  ! '  '  Lo,  that  ! '     But,  nay  !   earth's  golden 

prime 

Lies  infinitely  on,  where  none  can  see. 
A  new  commandment,  therefore,  give  I  thee." 

New  days  require  new  thoughts,  new  words,  new 

works. 
Blasphemer  he  who  those  new  meanings  shirks ! 

65 


66       POEMS   OF  RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 

Shall  men  forever  only  backward  glance  ?  — 
That  were  to  serve  but  shame  and  ignorance. 

"The  truth  that  is,  I  come  not  to  destroy  "  ;  — 
Truth's  service,  rather,  is  divinest  joy ! 
The  Past  did  well  —  it  could  but  blindly  see. 
To  larger  knowledge  be  as  faithful  we ! 

O  lover  wise  on  hills  of  Palestine ! 

If  still  the  power  to  seek  and  love  be  thine, 

What  joy  thou  hast,  though  Truth  thyself  o'er-arch. 

That  Man  still  hastens  on  his  upward  march  ! 


"SIGNS   AND    WONDERS" 

[1882] 

I  ask  not  "  miracles  "  to  guard  my  faith 

And  keep  it  from  the  clutch  of  grim  Despair ! 

To  me  a  miracle  is  but  a  wraith, 

While  Gracious  Fact  is  mine  in  earth  and  air. 

In  Nature's  Constancy  I  find  my  joy  ; 

I  know  that  Good  has  been,  will  always  be, 
And  now  in  manhood,  even  as  a  boy, 

I  ask  but  Natural  Opportunity. 

I  ask  but  still  the  rosy  light  of  morn, 

The  strength  that  after  rest  makes  labor  sweet  ; 
To  know  the  simpler  deeds  that  life  adorn, 

That  I  may  follow  with  glad,  willing  feet. 


MISCELLANEOUS  67 

Beauty  doth  everywhere  paint  sights  for  me, 
Raising  the  dead  at  heart  to  life  divine ; 

I  view  the  dawn-winds  walking  on  the  sea, 
Suns  in  rich  vineyards  making  water  wine. 

Concentric  circles  of  earth,  wave,  and  sky, 
Cut  by  the  far  horizon's  purple  rim,— 

All  come  as  miracle,  —  as  such  go  by,  — 

And  all  compel  from  me  the  grateful  hymn. 

The  laws  Mind  follows  to  Thought's  farthest  zone 
In  conquest  over  Nature's  secrets  vast,  — 

These,  too,  I  know  who  studieth  makes  his  own, 
Gaining  rare  triumphs  that  his  life  outlast. 

The  fossils  in  the  rocks  I  count  my  prize,  — 
More  eloquent  by  far  than  o'er-writ  "  Text  "  ! 

They  are  God's  own  Epistle  for  man's  eyes, 
Not  records  fifty  scribbling  monks  have  vext. 

And  yonder  Lights  !  .  .  .  O  tireless-swinging  Orbs  ! 

Not  in  a  trillion  years  one  hair's-breadth  free 
From  paths  the  Energy  which  all  absorbs 

Swung  vastly  for  your  whirling  ecstasy !  — 

A  "  Bible  "  ye  indeed  !  wherein  I  scan 

Forces  which  never  tire,  retrace,  nor  bend  ;  - 

From  which  I  solve,  or  seem  to  solve,  for  Man, 
The  law  on-urging  him  to  some  fine  end. 

Nor  these  alone,  but  thousand  sounds  and  signs, 
Around,  beneath,  within,  in  soul  and  clod, 


68       POEMS   OF   RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 

A  child's  sweet  kisses,  Summer's  purpling  vines, 
These  all  proclaim  the  animating  God. 

So  onward  go  I,  silent  in  the  crowd  ; 

I  hear  the  clamor,  but  I  answer  not. 
What  harm  to  me  their  whisperings  low  or  loud ! 

The  Law  Eternal  can  they  change  a  jot  ? 

And  for  the  rest,  —  our  own  small  arc  of  Time,  — 
Though  little  know  I,  much  I  hope  and  trust. 

At  any  rate,  mine  now  the  Power  Sublime, 
Not  into  cycles  dead  and  distant  thrust ! 

Yea,  for  the  rest  I  am  content  to  know 

For  ages  yet  shall  Spring  nor  Autumn  cease ; 

While,  east  or  west,  —  where'er  I  turn  or  go,  — 
A  Voice  in  pines,  in  wheatlands,  whispers  "  Peace 

Let  others  in  dim  child-world  dreamings  dwell, 
Still  bolstering  bravely  up  their  marvelous  tales, 

Roaming  through  Purgatories,  Heavens,  and  Hell 
With  faith  that  must  have  "miracles,"  or  fails  !  - 

Ample  for  me  is  Nature's  hourly  wealth, 

Her  Present  wonders,  —  helpful,  lavish,  sure! 

With  these,  and  open  eyes,  my  soul  finds  health ; 
Through  life  and  death  my  victories  endure. 


MISCELLANEOUS  69 


TO    TRUTH  — MY    GOD 

[1883] 
Till  ages  fail, 

And  love  receives  its  own  ; 
Till  ^Eons  pale, 

And  faith  is  wiser  grown, 
Be  Truth  my  God. 

I  may  not  always  live 

My  high  Ideal, 
But  high  resolve  I  give, 

Come  woe  or  weal, 
To  Truth  —  my  God. 

And  thus,  I  feel, 

My  soul  shall  never  fail  ! 
The  buds  that  heal 

Pass  not  with  frost  or  hail,  — 
They  grow  to  more  ! 

And  though  eye  may  be  dim, 

And  sense  be  weak, 
My  heart  still  chants  its  hymn, 

Soul  joy  doth  speak  — 
God  more  and  more. 


70       POEMS  OF   RELIGIOUS  PROGRESS 

"PREPARED" 

[1888] 

I  know  not  why  good  men  should  say 
That  he  who  dreams  a  dream  divine, 
And  seeks  it,  soulful,  does  not  "  pray  "  ! 
That  he  who  still  sees  Beauty  shine 
Through  all  life's  ill,  and  flowers  entwine 
With  solar  glow  to  hide  earth's  gray, 
Is  drunk  with  "  irreligious  "  wine  — 
Because  he  does  not  "  pray  "  ! 

Nor  know  I  why  good  men  should  sigh, 
Deeming  him  far  from  good  and  God 
Who  yet  in  darkness  hears  Love's  cry ; 
In  lambent  orb  and  lowliest  sod 
Progressive  Order  can  descry, 
A  Process  broad  and  deep  and  high ;  — 
Finding  alike  in  soul  and  clod 
A  "very  present"  God! 

I  know  not  why  good  men  have  sought 
To  speak  him  "  Christless  "  who  yet  goes 
In  paths  the  Galilean  taught,  — 
Seeking  what  he  his  neighbor  owes, 
Striving  poor  lives  with  misery  fraught 
To  heal  of  something  of  their  woes.  .  .  . 
"  But  ah  !  he  cries  not  '  Lord  ' —  and  ought ! 
This  man  of  '  Christless  '  thought !  " 


MISCELLANEOUS  71 

Still,  o'er  him  flushes  golden  sky ! 
Better  than  Night  he  loves  the  Day. 
In  the  divine  he  dwells,  say  I,  — 
So  close  he  has  no  need  to  "  pray  " ; 
More  than  his  want  is  the  supply  !  .   .  . 
So,  "doing  the  Will,"  and  "  knowing  the  Way," 
He  standeth  needy  world-souls  nigh,  — 
"  Prepared  "  to  live  or  die. 


DEEPER   AND    HIGHER 

Oh,  blest  that  as  the  centuries  fly 
Man's  soul  doth  deeper,  higher  roam  ! 
Yet  feels  the  more  that  earth  and  sky 
Are  but  a  vaster  temple  home  : 
Temple  that  needs  no  sun  to  thrill, 
So  grand  its  inner,  fadeless  light,  — 
The  godlike,  in  the  human,  still 
Redeeming  it  from  evil  plight. 

Above  the  clamors  of  our  day, 

Which  heedless  drown  the  still  small  voice, 

We  hear  a  mightier  Presence  say  : 

Rejoice,  O  sons  of  men  !  rejoice  ! 

Be  open  still  to  prophets'  cry ; 

Go  on  to  keener  insight  yet ! 

Much  still  remains  of  deep  and  high 

Ere  suns  and  stars  of  God  are  set. 


72       POEMS   OF  RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 


GOD    AND    MAN 

Where  is  beauty  ?     Where  is  grace  ? 

What  life  their  strength  embodies  ? 
Look  within  a  human  face  : 

Where  love  and  help  are,  God  is. 
Seek  this  mystery  to  trace  !  — 
Heaven  and  earth  its  lines  embrace, 
Souls,  and  suns,  and  stellar  space. 

Wondrous  is  the  mighty  Power 
Wherein  we  have  our  being ! 
Every  day  and  every  hour 

Brings  joy  for  hearing,  seeing ; 
Joy  of  stream  and  star  and  flower, 
Joy  of  sky-flung  spectrum-bower, 
Planet-haze  and  atom-shower. 

Love,  no  less,  of  human  hearts, 
Which  makes  all  life  worth  living, 

From  the  One,  the  Only,  starts, 
Man's  highest  glory  giving. 

This  to  know  transcends  all  arts  :  — 

From  the  Whole  the  partial  darts  ; 

Man's  love  God's  love  counterparts. 


MISCELLANEOUS  73 


MAN'S    BEST  WORD    GOD'S 
TRUE    WORD 

[1891] 

The  highest  Truth  is  ever  Word  of  God. 

"  My  doctrine  is  not  mine,"  said  he  of  old, 
"  But  His  that  sent  me."     And  the  fabled  rod 

Which  Moses  wielded  was  not  his,  't  was  told, 
But  "  symbol "  only,  of  a  Vaster  Power 
Which  feebly  he  forthshadowed  for  an  hour. 

Too  much  our  human  selves  we  separate 
From  the  Divine  Effulgence  which  is  All ! 

A  Deity  far  off  we  paint,  and  prate 
Of  God  as  hid  behind  dividing  wall. 

Such  dream  as  this  is  shadow  drear  and  dun  — 

A  glow-worm  dimness,  not  the  wondrous  sun. 

No  Word  of  Good  was  ever  breathed  not  God's ! 

No  stroke  for  Freedom  but  God  held  the  arm ! 
Lo,  then,  to-day,  these  Creeds'  overturning  sods  — 

They  token  Heaven's  rejoicing,  not  alarm. 
Oh  let  us  deem  Man's  own  best  Word  of  Hope 
Still  God's  true  Word,  and  Man's  best  horoscope. 


74       POEMS   OF  RELIGIOUS  PROGRESS 


THE    LIBERTY   WHEREWITH   WE 
ARE    MADE    FREE 

When  thought  of  what  the  God  may  be 
Oft  changes  like  the  changing  sea,  — 
Revealing  that  Man's  needs  profound 
To  deeper  depths  of  Being  sound  ; 
When  saviours  vanish  in  a  cloud 
Attenuate  as  Enoch's  shroud  ; 
When  Bibles  shrink  to  myth  and  tale, 
And  Church's  magic  Credos  fail,  — 
Then  glows  the  heart  triumphantly  : 
At  last  the  soul  of  man  is  free ! 
Tradition  binds  no  more  his  sight  — 
His  searching  meets  Eternal  Light ; 
Though  gleam  of  cross  and  altar  shrinks, 
His  spirit  at  life's  fountains  drinks ; 
In  place  of  signs  and  symbols  weak 
He  hears  his  own  high  conscience  speak ; 
His  soul  the  Beautiful  and  Good 
Embraces  as  its  habitude  ; 
In  truth  of  self  and  toil  for  man 
He  finds  an  all-sufficing  Plan,  — 
And  is  content  to  know  the  Whole 
Embraces  origin  and  goal. 


MISCELLANEOUS  75 


THE   AGE    OF    GOOD 

Mankind  has  waited  long  ; 

Still  saved  by  hope  it  waits, 
Calming  its  eagerness  with  song 

While  quelling  fears  and  hates. 

No  more  the  soul  is  bound 
By  childhood's  partial  creeds  : 

Love  makes  the  earth  all  holy  ground 
And  fills  all  human  needs. 

War's  trumpet  still  may  peal, 

And  Greed  with  Greed  may  fight, 

But  they  who  shape  earth's  future  weal 
Urge  Brotherhood  and  Right. 

The  flashing  sunlight  clear 
On  many  a  mountain's  head 

Is  symbol  of  earth's  passing  fear ; 
Wrong's  shadowy  hosts  are  fled. 

O  happy  Age  to  Be, 

When  Ignorance  lies  prone ! 
When  Love  has  perfect  liberty, 

Nor  meets  for  bread  a  stone !  — 

Be  ours  to  sing  thy  praise, 

Be  ours  to  aid  thy  birth, 
And  earlier  bring  the  wished-for  days 

Of  Righteousness  on  earth. 


;6      POEMS  OF  RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 


IN    THE    NAME    OF    GOD 

[1892] 

Ah,  Conclaves,  Councils  !     "  In  the  name  of  God  " 
Ye  judge  your  fellows,  wielding  creedal  rod. 

"As  servants  of  the  Meek  of  Galilee" 

Ye  smite  and  maim  —  but  not  by  his  decree ! 

Up,  and  awake !     Ye  strive  in  vain  to  stay 
With  banning  words  the  sunrise  of  To-day. 

Still  "who  is  not  against "  is  on  Truth's  side, 
And  with  him  angels  ever  shall  abide. 


STAR   AND    CROSS 

[1887] 

"  The  time  has  come  when  all  men  shall  be  free ! " 
Thus  in  my  dream  an  Angel  spake  to  me  : 
An  Angel  on  whose  forehead  gleamed  a  Star,  — 
Beneath  whose  feet  reclined  a  shattered  Spar. 

Bright  was  his  countenance,  though  dread  his  word  ! 
Raptured  I  gazed,  but  shuddered  as  I  heard : 

"  I  am  inspirer  of  the  Modern  Seer  : 
Knowledge,  —  'Star-eyed/  men  call  me,  and  do  well ! 
Secrets  of  Past  and  Coming  Time  I  tell ; 
Earth's  child-conceptions  fade  now  I  am  here ! 


MISCELLANEOUS  77 

In  hope  foundationless,  enmixed  with  fear, 

Before  the  Central  Scaffold  of  the  years 

Full  long  a  time  a  thoughtless  world  has  bowed. 

Now  see  we  clearer  !  clearer  still  shall  see  ! 

Take  hence  the  Cross  !  —  here,  wrap  it  in  its  shroud  ! 

In  reverence  bear  it  —  wet  with  wasted  tears  — 

Futile  as  sign  of  Immortality  — 

To  Arimathean  Joseph's  rock-cut  tomb 

(Where  he  for  Greatness  made  in  love  fair  room), 

And  lay  it  where  its  Victim's  ashes  be ! 

The  Star  henceforth  be  symbol  —  stars  give  light : 

The  Cross's  origin  was  Dreams  and  Night." 

The  Vision  smiled,  and  light  upon  me  broke. 

But  some  — "  It  thundered,  not  an  Angel  spoke  !  " 


THE    NEW    EVANGEL 

[1889] 

Come  to  the  cradle,  and  bow  : 
Knowledge  is  Saviour  now. 
And  the  airs  that  blow 
And  the  waters  that  flow  — 
The  Forces  of  Nature 
Increasing  Man's  stature  — 
Are  the  modern  Angels 
That  murmur  Evangels. 
Seize  on  them  while  you  may  ! 
Be  blest  in  the  life  of  To-day  ! 


;8       POEMS  OF  RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 


UPLIFTS    OF    HEART  AND   WILL 

Uplifts  of  eager  heart  and  earnest  will ! 

Pulsings  of  soul !  — 
These,  in  their  high,  unintermittent  surge, 

Make  Being  whole.  .  .  . 

Surgings  of  Spirit  tow'rds  the  unknown  Source 

Whence  cometh  all ; 
Surgings  of  Will  to  Duty,  fair  or  hard, 

Whate'er  befall : 

Ambitions  high,  to  follow  nobly  out 

The  earthly  Real ; 
Resolves  no  less  to  breathe  Heaven's  purer  air  — 

The  far  Ideal ! 

Strugglings  for  self  —  to  win  and  nobly  use 

Time's  fairer  good ; 
Strugglings  sublime  for  others  —  to  make  fact 

Man's  brotherhood. 

Not  surgings  for  an  hour  to  rush  and  roar, 
And  then  subside ; 


MISCELLANEOUS  79 

But  higher,  holier  surgings,  that  shall  pour 
In  endless  tide.  .  .  . 

These  are  the  Race,  the  Goal,  the  Home,  the  God, 

In  all  earth's  strife  ; 
These  are,  and  shall  be  ever,  soul  of  soul, 

And  life  of  life. 


TRANSFORMATION 

Full  long  the  years  to  Man  were  all  unkind ; 

To  what  was  highest  in  him  he  was  blind. 

The  Seer  was  born,  and  opened  were  men's  eyes 
To  visions  splendid  and  celestial  skies  ! 

We  are  not  clay  alone  —  mere  sons  of  earth  — 
But  born  of  highest  in  the  universe. 
In  soul  nor  matter  is  inherent  curse. 
By  noble  striving  we  dispel  life's  dearth, 
And  gaining  selflessness  we  meet  a  birth 
To  fairer  good  than  fabled  gods  disburse. 


8o       POEMS   OF  RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 


IN    SECRET 

"O  ye  gods,  grant  me  to  be  beautiful  in  soul." — Socrates. 

'Mid  quiet  hills  (the  yearning  spirit's  quest ! ) 

This  dear  wild  aster,  in  its  lonely  place 

In  Wildcat  Notch — 'gainst  rocky  wall  hard  pressed 

Blossoms  as  freely,  with  as  perfect  grace, 

As  if  amid  some  hundred-poppied  nook 

In  parkways  where  the  eager  thousand  look. 

O  Power  unknown,  —  unknown  for  all  my  cry  ; 

Forever  in  thy  solveless  mystery  clad,  — 

Behold  !  oft  likewise  lift  I  quiet  face 

In  regions  lonely,  with  no  passer  by ! 

Would  that  some  perfectness,  transmuting  bad, 

Might  shine  in  me,  though  seen  not  by  the  race. 


WHENCE   THE    GLORY? 

From  out  this  swaying  tent  of  sunlit  green, 
This  fragrant  pine-tree  in  whose  shade  I  lie, 
What  melody,  accusing  while  serene,  — 
What  whisper,  —  answers  my  impatient  cry  ? 

"  Thou  little  knowest  of  the  far  and  high, 
And  pain  is  present  in  the  near  and  seen  ? 


MISCELLANEOUS  81 

Thou  knowest  not  of  bliss  beyond  the  sky, 

But  spurnest  threats  of  an  abysmal  deep  ? 

Thou  art  not  reconciled  that  such  as  Man  — 

When  falls  the  darkness  —  should  forever  sleep  ? 

O'er  virtue  human  waywardness  holds  ban  ? 

Oppression  hastes,  while  love  and  justice  creep?  .  .  . 

What  if  Life's  Mystery  thou  canst  not  span ! 

Enough  that  day  by  day  thy  duty  shows ! 

Enough  that  conscience  sings  of  high  estate, 

And,  when  thou  sinkest,  makes  thy  heart  elate ! 

When  out  from  primal  Chaos  love  arose, 

It  was  the  flashing  of  a  faithful  sun 

With  promise  of  a  fair  and  fruitful  earth 

Where  will  and  longing  should  meet  radiant  dower." 

"  But  love  and  will,"  I  answered,  "are  of  Man, 
Through  weary  centuries  accumulate  !  " 

"  Yet  was  it  not  in  Nature  man  had  birth, 
As  still  through  Nature  he  ascends  to  power  ?  — 
Yet  more  and  more  to  climb,  as  wisdom  grows, 
Till  haply  love  and  God  are  seen  as  One  ? 
Hath  not  my  green  its  glory  from  the  sun  ? " 

Thus  greenly  sang  my  pine-tree  all  the  day, 
Till  blest  I  rose,  and  went  my  hopeful  way. 


82       POEMS   OF   RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 


"LABORERS    TOGETHER" 

I  live  not  far  from  Thee.     I  grasp  Thee  not  — 
Thy  secret  Being  still  unknown  abideth  ! 

But  life's  sweet  good  —  Thy  good  —  through  mine 

is  shot, 
And  when  I  err,  Thy  silent  mandate  chideth. 

Thy  mandate  ?  —  or  my  own  ?     Transcendent 

Thine  ?  - 

Or  mine  by  human  heritage  through  ages  ? 
The  faiths  accumulate  at  human  shrine 

At  last  have  merged  as  one  these  two  bright 
pages ! 

In  Thee  I  live,  and  Thou  no  less  in  me : 
Through  all  eternities  we  wend  together. 

In  aught  can  I  work  answering  help  for  Thee  ?  — 
Yea,  live  to  add  to  Love's  white  wing  a  feather. 


POEMS   OF    RELIGIOUS    PROGRESS 

II.     SONNETS 


SEARCH 

What  thought  of  God  have  hungering  men  to-day 
That  they  themselves  have  not  sought  out  and 

found  ? 

What  spot  of  earth  is  christened  holy  ground 
But  where  high  souls  have  walked  their  human 
way  ? 

What  laws  and  precepts  by  which  sages  say 
Life's  good  is  best  set  free  and  evil  bound, 
But  came  from  fine  endeavors  proven  sound 
By  loves  and  agonies  of  young  and  gray  ? 

All  faith,  all  knowledge,  springs  in  man's  own  heart, 
And  from  his  partial  sight  he  moulds  his  creed, 
Not  thinking  he  shall  wider  know  and  see  ! 

Henceforth  mankind  shall  learn  this  wiser  part :  — 
Who  honors  Truth,  in  thought  and  word  and  deed, 
He  best,  O  mighty  Marvel,  worships  Thee. 


84       POEMS  OF  RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 


LOFTIER    GOOD 

O  hungering  earth  !  in  these  aspiring  years  — 

Which  build  new  faiths  like  blossoms  from  the  sod, 
Still  seeking  higher  heaven  and  higher  God  — 
What  mightier  hopes  are  thine,  transforming  fears ! 

What  vaster  sight !     No  cause  for  grief  or  tears, 
But  loftier  good  than  any  when  men  trod 
With  fixed  stern  faces  fearing  threatening  rod,  — 
Since  now  a  manlier  onset  charms  our  ears  : 

High  onset  for  the  Truth  whate'er  it  be ! 
For  only  in  the  Truth  can  rest  be  found, 
Or  Brotherhood,  or  knowledge  of  The  Way. 

Rejoice,  O  world  long  drugged  with  fantasy ! 
Through  Truth  shall  every  ill  at  last  be  bound, 
And  good  increasingly  hold  life  in  sway. 


WORSHIP 

Must  fear  indeed  accept  what  love  denies, 
And  faith  receive  what  reason  bids  disdain  ? 
Can  priestly  word  wash  out  hate's  caustic  stain, 
Or  cross  or  shambles  purge  a  soul  of  lies  ? 

O  signs  and  symbols  by  which  conscience  buys 
An  anaesthetic  for  its  soul-birth  pain, 
Too  long  ye  charm  a  world  which  seeks  to~gain 
A  listless  mansion  in  the  dubious  skies. 


SONNETS  85 

Arouse,  O  child  of  mystery  unguessed  ! 

Put  goodness  in  thy  life  and  in  thy  creed ! 

To-day  well  lived  best  wins  the  day  to  be 
And  finds  it  in  undreamed-of  beauty  dressed. 

Tradition's  staff  is  but  a  broken  reed, 

While  love  and  truth  uphold  the  skies  and  sea. 


REVELATION 

What  hast  thou  heard,  O  soul,  with  inward  ear, 
That    makes    all  written  Word    to    thee    seem 

naught  ?  .  .   . 

Upon  the  Shore  Eternal  I  have  caught 
The  rhythmic  murmur, — "One  are  There  and 
Here, 

And  Life  and  Death  !     All,  all  is  void  of  fear  ; 
The  Power  that  out  of  lowliness  hath  brought 
The  rose  to  beauty,  and  man's  spirit  fraught 
With  godlike  aims,  still  pulsates  every  sphere ! 

We  live,  we  love,  —  we  vanish.     Still  we  are, 
And  in  eternal  round  we  live  and  grow, 
And  love  again,  and  rise  to  more  and  more. 

O  ye  who  suffer  !  all  your  grief  unbar  ! 
Ye  suffer  only  while  ye  hug  your  woe. 
No  tempest  shatters  on  this  deeper  shore." 


86       POEMS   OF  RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 


"OF    ONE" 

Jesus,  thy  teachings  oft  have  made  me  smart 
When  I  have  failed  in  love  for  fellow  men. 
Siddartha,  grief  has  been  my  portion  when 
Thy  selflessness  has  taught  my  feverish  heart 

Its  vain  ambitions.     When  some  coward  start 
Has  seized  me,  thou,  Mohammed,  then 
Hast  stirred  to  bravery.     Thy  moral  ken, 
Confucius,  spurs  me  when  I  fail  life's  better  part. 

O  saviours  many,  of  time  old  and  new  !  — 
Alike  ye  lead  from  darkness  to  the  light. 
O  words  as  high  within  my  own  calm  breast !  — 

No  less  ye  summon  Wisdom  to  pursue. 
Still  sound,  O  clarions  of  love  and  right, 
Till  I  win  Freedom  serving  your  behest. 


THE    MOTHER 

Why  should  we  limit  Power  and  Mystery 
To  one  poor  pronoun  of  our  human  speech  ? 
Has  deity  no  higher,  wider  reach 
Than  we  can  grasp  when  glibly  we  say  "  He  ? " 

The  fertile  universe  at  least  is  "  She," 

Fruitful  in  brain  and  pinion,  flower  and  peach  ; 
And  ever  dumb  when  we  its  face  beseech, 
It  seems  but  "  It,"  it  stands  so  silently. 


SONNETS  87 

O  mighty  MOTHER  !  —  foremost  art  thou  this  ! 

And  we  thine  offspring,  clinging  to  thy  breast  ! 

Thou  givest  us  the  stars  and  streams  for  toys  ; 
In  thy  benignant  smile  alone  is  bliss. 

Though  ignorant,  in  thy  wise  calm  we  rest, 

And  when  thou  frownest,  darkened  are  our  joys. 


BEACON -LIGHTS 

The  brilliant  beacon-lights  that  bound  the  shore 
With  hope  to  storm-tossed  mariners  are  fraught : 
What  matter,  so  their  radiance  be  caught, 
They  flash  from  rock,  or  bluff,  or  beach,  or  tower  ? 

The  sailor  doubts  not  their  propitious  power, 

But  heeds  their  warning  with  his  every  thought : 
He  heeds  their  warning,  and  the  ship  is  brought 
To  home  and  harbor  in  a  happy  hour. 

Along  the  headlands  of  life's  perilous  sea 

Beam  steadfast  lights  of  human  will  and  love  ! 
What  matter,  Jew,  Greek,  Christian,  if  the  light 

Be  followed  faithfully  ?     It  then  shall  be 
A  Guiding  Light  indeed,  to  Ports  above : 
A  pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  of  fire  by  night. 


POEMS   OF   RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 


RELIGION    AS   A    LIFE 

i 
Religion  is  to  eat  and  drink  for  health ; 

Keep  body  sweet  and  clean,  and  breathe  full  deep ; 
Hold  supple  frame  and  mind  the  highest  wealth ; 
Through  honest  toil  each  day  earn  soundest  sleep. 

ii 
Religion  is  to  seek  the  good  of  Man ; 

To  give  each  child  a  welcome  on  earth's  ball ; 
Put  private  avarice  'neath  scornful  ban  ; 
Make  every  "good  "  a  joy  and  strength  for  all. 

in 
Religion  is  to  find  a  child's  repose 

In  Nature's  beauty  and  Law's  rhythmic  beat ; 
To  deem  the  wonder  of  an  opening  rose 
Symbolic  of  the  Heart  of  Things  as  sweet. 

IV 

With  soul  entranced  by  the  mysterious  all, 
Be  ardor  mine  to  meet  religion's  call  ! 


SONNETS  89 


"I    WILL    LAY    MINE    HAND    UPON 
MY    MOUTH."—  Book  of  Job 

[Written  after  listening  to  extended  theological  speculations 
followed  by  heated  eschatological  discussion] 

O  wondrous  Power  in  which  we  live  and  move,  — 
As  gods  in  greatness  for  our  moment's  space ! 
Not  ours  the  mighty  mystery  to  trace 
Of  How  and  What,  —  nor  doth  it  us  behoove 

To  wail,  despairing,  that  we  cannot  prove 
The  very  lines  on  some  benignant  Face, 
Or  through  ethereal  mazes  with  Thee  race 
To  oil  for  Thee  each  planetary  groove  ! 

Enough  if  human  brotherhood  abounds  ; 
Enough  if  earth  to-day  is  fair  and  wide 
Nor  crashes  yet,  a  cinder,  to  its  doom  ! 

And  as  for  problems  of  extended  grounds, 

And  as  for  place  where  myriad  souls  can  bide, 
The  "  infinite  "  can  scarcely  lack  for  room  ! 


90       POEMS  OF  RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 


RECOGNITION    OF    ONENESS 

Pervasive  Power  !  —  all  present  and  all  free  !  — 
Within  whose  greatness  I  myself  am  great ! 
Since  first  I  recognized  myself  in  Thee 
Where  are  my  burdens  flown,  my  low  estate  ? 

Ye  pains  of  earth,  that  held  me  in  your  power, 
Beclouding  the  divine  I  vainly  sought,  — 
Say  !  whither  did  ye  vanish  in  that  hour  ?  .  .   . 
Ah,  pains,  ye  cannot  answer  —  ye  are  naught ! 

Within  myself  are  the  Eternal  Springs, 
And  rise  they  high  as  I  myself  rise  high. 
What  wonder  that  uncramped  my  spirit  sings, 
And  that  I  younger  grow  as  seasons  fly ! 

Since  I  am  one  with  all  the  Good  there  is, 

No  prayers  I  have,  but  only  symphonies. 


SONNETS  91 


WINGS 

When  earth's  first  parents,  in  the  legend  old, 
Had  tasted  Knowledge  and  discerned  it  sweet, 
They  gave  their  innocence  for  freedom  bold, 
And,  singing,  to  new  pathways  turned  their  feet. 

Methinks  no  flaming  sword,  with  point  of  light, 
Now  turning  this  way  and  now  turning  that, 
Was  needed  to  preserve  that  gateway  bright,  - 
For  who  would  linger  where  that  angel  sat ! 

No  Eden  past  can  equal  Eden  new ; 

Oh,  renegade  to  God  whose  will  is  weak ! 
Forever  overhead  love's  skies  are  blue, 
Forever  doth  the  voice  at  evening  speak. 

On  Wisdom's  pinions  endless  beauties  wait ; 

And  where  are  wings,  what  service  is  a  gate  ? 


92       POEMS   OF  RELIGIOUS   PROGRESS 


"TO  THINE  OWN   SELF  BE  TRUE" 

These  forward  shocks  still  speak  my  course  aright !  — 
For  me  no  port  can  ever  lie  astern. 
East,  and  still  east,  the  Morning's  signals  burn, 
And  I  must  follow  where  I  see  the  light. 

On  every  hand  fair  ships  take  shoreward  flight,  - 
So  help  me  Heaven  my  course  I  cannot  turn ! 
Not  once  since  early  start  did  bosom  yearn 
To  lie  at  ease  again  on  coasts  of  Night. 

And  recompense  ?     Oh,  much  !     One  closest  friend, 
With  whom  for  evermore  I  still  must  steer, 
Would  spurn  me  if  I  veered  to  west  or  south ! 

But  having  him  my  lover  to  the  end, 
No  other  paradise  could  be  so  dear, 
No  tropic's  kiss  so  sweet  upon  my  mouth. 


POEMS    OF    LIVING 

/.    MISCELLANEOUS 


MAN'S   OPPORTUNITY 


He  does  not  think  —  he  does  not  know : 
A  wave  is  breaking  on  the  shore ; 
A  wave  surcharged  with  richest  ore 

And  tinged  with  deepest  golden  glow. 

He  heeds  it  not  —  he  does  not  know  : 
It  scatters  pearls  athwart  his  path; 
It  bathes  as  in  a  purple  bath 

The  boundaries  where  his  feet  must  go. 

He  heeds  it  not  —  he  passes  by  : 
It  breaks,  it  bursts  upon  the  strand, 
Its  wealth  is  squandered  on  the  sand, 

Its  pearls  in  shattered  fragments  fly. 

ii 

He  does  not  know  —  he  does  not  guess  : 
A  flower  is  blossoming  at  his  feet ; 
A  flower  is  offering  incense  sweet  — 
And  fading  in  the  wilderness. 
93 


94  POEMS    OF    LIVING 

He  heeds  it  not  —  he  passes  on  : 
Its  purple  petals  droop  and  die ; 
Its  wealth  is  wasted  on  the  sky : 

It  might  have  bloomed  by  Helicon. 


in 

He  does  not  know  —  he  does  not  dream  : 
A  star  is  flaming  in  the  sky ; 
A  star  that  passes  swiftly  by,  — 

A  star  of  high,  transcendent  gleam  ! 

He  sees  nor  feels  its  cheering  light : 
It  glows  and  gleams  indeed,  to-day  ;  — 
To-morrow,  deepening  into  gray, 

Shall  find  it  vanished  in  the  Night. 

IV 

He  does  not  seek  —  he  does  not  think  : 
A  fountain  gushes  at  his  hand  : 
Its  wealth  he  does  not  understand  : 

He  looks  nor  moves,  nor  stoops  to  drink. 

v 

He  does  not  think  —  he  does  not  know  : 
A  song  is  trembling  through  the  air ; 
A  bird  is  warbling  anthems  rare 

And  murmuring  lyrics  sweet  and  low. 


MISCELLANEOUS  95 

He  hears  nor  heeds  —  he  passes  on  : 
And  wings  are  raised  —  a  birdling  flies  ; 
The  trembling  cadence  fails  and  dies  : 

The  anthem  and  the  bird  are  gone. 

VI 

He  does  not  see  —  he  does  not  take. 

A  wave,  a  flower,  a  star,  a  song, 

A  fountain — all  to  him  belong. 
Oh,  when  shall  he  arise,  awake ! 


UNGRASPED 

On  many  a  marvel  which  Nature  discloses 
Man's  eye  never  looks,  and  the  daintiest  roses 

Bloom  wild  where  his  footsteps  may  never  have 
stirred. 

Unseen  by  man's  eye,  and  untouched  by  his  hand, 
Lie  treasures  unnumbered  awaiting  command 
If  only  his  heart  and  his  will  say  the  word. 

With  noble  realities  life  is  replete ; 
But  he  who  shall  seek  them  with  wandering  feet 
Shall  never  earth's  best  benediction  have  heard. 


96  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


THYSELF   WITHIN 

Amid  the  ceaseless  loss  and  change 

Of  time  and  friends  and  all  below,  — 

(O  things  we  love  !  how  swift  ye  go  ! 

O  things  that  are  !  how  new  and  strange  ! ) 

Ah,  whither  shall  our  spirits  range 

A  more  eternal  life  to  know ! 

In  Syria,  Ind,  or  Egypt  sought, 
One  answer  only  have  the  years 
Sent  down  to  banish  hopes  and  fears  :  — 
Within  thyself  must  heaven  be  caught 
And  captive  held,  —  or  all  is  tears  ! 
For  this  saints  died  and  martyrs  fought. 

Thyself  within  !     Thyself  within  ! 

O  soul,  find  here  thy  strength,  thy  peace. 

Pray  not  that  loss  and  change  may  cease,  — 

Pray,  rather,  higher  heights  to  win ! 

Thy  spirit's  loftier  wings  release, 

And  soar  thee  where  thou  art  akin  ! 


MISCELLANEOUS  97 


THE    PATH    OF    SUN 

Across  the  harbor's  placid  wave 
The  pathway  of  the  sun  is  bright. 

The  orb  uprising  from  its  grave 
Has  pushed  away  the  angry  night, 

And  now  the  beating  sea  is  still, 

And  lit  from  Heaven's  hill. 

0  wings  of  white  that  flit  across  ! 
You  sails  that  flash  and  fall  and  rear ! 

1  know  not  what  of  pain  or  loss 

The  souls  you  carry  bear  or  fear ; 
I  know  this  hour  their  eyes  are  bright 
With  morn's  exultant  light. 

O  heart  of  mine,  O  faith  of  mine, 
You  have  not  sunk  or  wailed  at  loss  ; 

You  fathom  not  the  far  divine, 

But  light  with  smiles  each  daily  cross  ; 

And  still  your  path  till  life  is  run 

Shall  be  the  path  of  sun. 


98  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


LIFE'S    MEANING 

[1889] 

Oft,  when  I  have  walked  at  dawning  by  the  margin 

of  the  sea, 
Of  the  hopefulness  of   Nature  it  has  sung  its  song 

to  me. 

With  a  soul  tow'rd  light  determined  I  have  sought 

its  secret  word, 
And  its  accents  have  been  music  I  have  elsewhere 

never  heard. 

True,    the    sea   itself    is  "  cruel "-  —  never  shrinks    it 

back  for  pain. 
But    its    tide-falls    cleanse    the    continents,   its   mists 

bring  tender  rain. 

So  throughout  the  whole  of  Nature  ;  —  there  is  evi 
dence  of  good, 

Bringing  order  out  of  chaos,  smiling  fields  where 
oceans  stood. 

And  't  is  thus  —  a  meaning  finding  even  in  its  harsh 
est  strife  — 

That  I  follow  onward  cheerly  through  this  wondrous 
thing  called  life. 


MISCELLANEOUS  99 

Life !   whose  warp  is  ceaseless  effort,  while  its  woof 

is  Progress  still, 
As   it  was   through  countless  epochs  ere  the  world 

knew  human  will. 

Life  !   the  symphony  whose  harmony  would  languish 

into  death 
If  it  never  knew  the  discord  which  brings  out    its 

sweeter  breath. 

Life !   the  fair  and  boundless  continent,  amid  whose 

sunlit  ways 
We  enact  heroic  dramas,  living  nobly-eager  days. 

True,  our  petty  "titles  "  vanish  —  but  we  live  not  for 

a " name " ; 
To  exist  in  added  world-good  were  a  thousand  times 

the  fame ! 

And  we  know  we  cannot  act  a  deed  of  good  or  deed 

of  ill 
But  its  ends,  accruing  ever,  through  eternities  shall 

thrill. 

He  who,  aching,  tills  the  cornfield,  in  whatever  valley 

far- 
Nobler  he  in  manhood's  best  than  any  war-left  living 

scar. 


ioo  POEMS    OF    LIVING 

Toiling  scientist  and  poet,  seeking  Mother  Nature's 

best- 
In  the  growing  good  of  ages  far  outweigh  they  all 

the  rest. 

Nobler  he  than  lords  of  wealth,  who  in  the  smart  of 

modern  need 
Reaches  lowly  hand  of  help  to  bridge  the  stream  of 

human  greed. 

So  on  life's  unmeasured  rim  we  nobly  act,  nor  seek 

return  : 
While   before    us,    steadfast    ever,    Hope's    eternal 

torches  burn. 

And  't  is  worth  the  struggle !  .  .  .  Faithless  !  faithless 

of  our  Mother  Nature's  power 
To  sit  down  with  dull  despairings,  or  to  hopeless  wail 

an  hour ! 

Are  not  we  a  part  of   Nature  ?     Then  to  us  the 

new-age  call 
The  long  prayer  of  years  to  answer,  and  on  earth 

bring  peace  for  all. 

Here  no  room  for  " floating  foam-wreaths  wafted  down 

from  moonlit  shores  "  ; 
Here  the  summons  to  work  desperate  while  the  hot 

sun  deadly  pours  ! 


MISCELLANEOUS  roi 

Brothers  !   know  you  not  men  languish  for  the  help 

that  you  can  give  ? 
Spend  your  years  in  action  !  action !  that  a  dead  world 

may  new-live. 

What  though  selfish  hordes   pledge  wine-cup  at  the 

banquet  or  the  rout  ? 
Here  our  place  is  —  to  bring  joyance  to  these  hungry 

eyes  without. 

Oh,  the  happiness  of  living,  when  we  claim  a  lofty 

work ! 
'T  is  in  faithful  future  Doing  that  the  good  of  man 

shall  lurk. 

Life  shall  then  have  purpose  for  us  —  we  shall  see  it 
is  divine  ; 

And  in  fact,  not  dreamings  longer,  shall  the  flower- 
decked  Eden  shine. 

Not  in  vain  we  seek  Life's  meaning.     If  we  lift  our 

heedful  eyes 
Voices  everywhere  enthrall  us  —  the  whole  universe 

replies. 


POEMS    OF    LIVING 


FUTURES 

Futures  flash  not  into  being, 
Futures  are  results  of  Presents. 
When  the  call  of  Duty  beckons, 
Brother,  be  not  thou  the  laggard. 
Justice  waits  thy  strong  endeavor. 


COIN    IN    ANY    REALM 

With  place,  with  gold,  with  power  —  oh,  ask  me  not 

With  these  my  little  hour  of  life  to  blot. 

A  little  hour  indeed  !  and  I  would  fain 

Its  moments  spend  in  what  is  worth  its  pain. 

What  traveler  would  faint  through  troublous  lands 

To  gather  only  what  must  leave  his  hands 

The  moment  that  he  takes  his  homeward  ship  ? 

Earth's  goods  and  gauds  give  every  man  the  slip ; 

But  wealth  of  Thought,  and  richer  wealth  of  Love, 

Must  pass  for  coin  in  any  world  above. 

The  good  to  others  done  while  here  I  strive 

Is  all  at  last  that  shall  my  dying  shrive ; 

And  setting  sail,  my  slight  self-conquest's  store 

Is  all  my  freight  if  I  shall  come  to  shore. 


MISCELLANEOUS  103 


SOUL'S    PARADISE 

All  zones  I  searched — in  pain — in  glee 
For  Paradise,  sweet  Paradise. 

Its  stately  towers  I  ne'er  could  see  : 
Faint  Paradise,  far  Paradise. 

Still  on  I  toiled  courageously 

Tow'rd  Paradise,  dear  Paradise. 

As  I  approached,  its  walls  would  flee : 
Sad  Paradise,  false  Paradise. 

I  ceased  my  quest !     It  then  found  me  ! 

Close  Paradise,  self- Paradise  ! 
Now  hourly,  where  I  go  or  be 

Is  Paradise,  soul's  Paradise. 


FOREVER    ON 

I  would  not  look  at  life's  high  aim  aslant ! 
Life  is  for  growth  !     It  is  a  mountain  plant, 
Its  roots  descending,  but  its  leaves  upspread ; 
A  shoot  divine,  whose  seeds,  when  we  are  dead, 
Should  spring  immortally  in  other  life, 
Potent  in  tendencies  to  nobler  strife, 
Showing  the  soul's  high  lure,  till  Time  be  gone, 
To  Be,  to  Do,  and  so  forever  on. 


104  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


"IN    THY   YOUTH" 

What  is  true  manliness  ?     With  banner's  sweep 
To  flaunt  abroad  that  powers  have  come  full  tide  ? 
With  scornful  lawlessness  to  blazon  wide 
The  sacred  fire  each  life  should  sacred  keep  ? 

To  come  full-orbed,  yet  mightily  to  know 

The  Titan  thrill  of  holding  power  in  thrall  — 

This  is  true  manliness  !  and  this  the  call 

For  thee  high  flung  which  diamond  trumpets  blow. 


SOUL   AND    SENSE 

Who  that  perceives  the  mocking  flare  of  sense, 
Or  catches  vision  of  the  orb  of  love, 

Can  doubt  which  glow  shines  sweetest  recompense 
The  valley  murk,  the  unwavering  star  above  ? 

Yet  oh,  the  paradox  !  that  those  in  shame 

Should  dream  that  they  alone  encompass  bliss, 

When  'tis  but  fitful,  phosphorescent  flame 
To  soul-exalting  planet-ray  like  this  ! 

O  vision  fair  of  oneness  with  the  Whole ! 
In  thee  alone  is  blessedness  and  truth. 


MISCELLANEOUS  105 

Insight  and  strength  are  thy  sweet  gifts,  O  Soul, 
And  lofty  promise  of  eternal  youth. 

Give  me  to  rove  in  the  supremer  air  ! 

Give  me  the  mountain-side  to  toil  and  climb ! 
I  shall  breathe  easier  and  freer  there, 

I  shall  die  calmer  on  those  heights  sublime. 


LIFE'S    BEAUTY 

Oh,  when  often  in  my  bosom 

Glows  a  longing  for  life's  beauty, 

Something  in  me  whispers,  —  urging,  - 
"  'T  is  incentive  to  life's  duty  ! 
'T  is  high  impetus  to  duty." 

And  I  know  the  voice  speaks  truly, 
For  high  peace  finds  never  mortal 

Save  in  strong,  sublime  endeavor 
Worshipful  at  Duty's  portal ; 

Steadfast,  meek,  at  Duty's  portal. 

Flame,  then,  in  my  bosom,  Beauty  ! 

Flame  and  glow  with  fire  supernal. 
Thou  shalt  lead  me  —  willing  go  I  !  — 

To  life's  blessedness  eternal, 
Unto  joys  ideal,  eternal. 


io6  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


WORK 

To  seek  —  invent  —  discover  !     To  create  ! 
Mountains  to  carve,  wild  zones  to  subjugate, 
The  seas  to  merge,  rude  metals  to  refine, 
Harsh  sounds  to  mingle  in  mellifluous  line, 
Disease  to  vanquish,  famine  to  repel, 
World-thought  to  lift,  and  peal  Wrong's  passing- 
bell  ;  - 

The  daily  toil  of  common  mill  and  mart, 
The  humblest  toil,  if  mixed  with  thought  and  heart, 
Lo,  't  is  man's  Angel !  't  is  the  life  of  life  ! 
Pain  fails  of  power,  and  strife  no  more  is  strife. 
Swiftly  flies  doubt,  and  grieving  follows  fast, 
Blown  on  the  wings  of  this  supernal  blast. 

What  art  thou,  Labor  ?    Nay,  what  art  thou  not ! 
For  world's  unkindness,  soul's  sweet  garden-spot ; 
Shade  if  detraction's  scorching  airs  arise ; 
Sun  to  illume  fear's  direful  fantasies ; 
Lover  to  give  the  spirit  pure  caress ; 
Friend  to  dispel  bereavement's  loneliness  ; 
Quencher  of  wants  if  poverty  befall ; 
Narcotic  draft  for  pain  tyrannical ; 
Disdained  affection's  Lethe;  —  magic  wand 
To  waft  us  swiftly,  soothingly,  beyond 
Earth's  every  selfishness  and  meanness  dire, 
And  bathe  the  soul  in  Heaven's  own  blissful  fire ! 


MISCELLANEOUS  107 

Do  Nature's  forces  ever  idle  lurk  ? 
Doth  she,  the  Mighty  One,  not  ceaseless  work 
To-day  as  when  at  her  evolving  call 
From  chaos  tow'rd  perfection  sprang  earth's  ball  ? 
So  toil  ye  also,  hands,  heart,  mind  of  me  !  — 
Till  latest  hour  strive  on  in  ecstasy  ! 
Strive  on  ?     Yea,  love  on  !  —  toil  and  love  are  one 
To  him  who  toils  nor  wishes  toilings  done. 
Did  erst  the  morning  stars  with  rapture  sing  ? 
Is  't  writ,  with  peace  Heaven's  echoing  arches  ring  ? 
So  human  souls,  through  their  most  secret  aisles, 
When  Labor,  baffling  weakness,  soars  and  smiles. 


CONFESSIONS    OF  A  VOLUPTUARY 

[1903! 


Voluptuary,  I !     At  dawn's  first  flash, 

While  wretched  thousands  are  condemned  to  sleep, 
I  rise  and  in  luxurious  coolness  splash,  — 

Then  on  my  silent  courser  joyous  leap 
To  seek  the  hilltop  or  the  woodland  stream, 
Or  watch  the  lighthouse  as  it  pales  its  beam. 

The  robin  and  the  bobolink  and  I 

Have  kindred  passion  for  the  morning  sky. 


io8  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


ii 
While  others  drudge  at  kitchen  board  or  fire, 

Compelled  for  breakfast's  needs  to  broil  or  brew, 
I  talk  with  novelists  who  never  tire, 

Or  wing  with  poets  the  ethereal  blue. 
I  'd  rather  bathe  my  soul  than  pots  and  plates,  — 
Would  barter  Wedgwood  for  a  bag  of  dates  : 

For  I  have  learned  that  simplest  fare  is  best, 

And  nuts  and  fruits  make  mealtime-seasons  blest. 

(Forgive  me,  flocks  and  herds,  —  sweet-breath' d  as 
Ind,- 

That  range  the  prairie  and  the  pasture  deep ! 
Forgive  me  that  in  ignorance  I  sinned : 

That  you  were  once  my  sacrifice  I  weep. 
Besides,  men  learn  that  they  find  healthier  blood 
In  pulse  than  flesh,  in  figs  than  carnal  flood. 

The  soul  sincere  that  seeks  mind's  regions  fair 

Loves  fragrant  foods  that  bloom  in  sun  and  air.) 

in 
When  toil  begins,  and  comrades  fret  and  shirk, 

I  freshen  labor  with  the  spirit's  test. 
Imagination  never  hindered  work. 

In  perfect  product  is  completest  rest. 
I  take  my  pleasure  as  I  go  along, 
And  try  to  make  my  daily  toil  my  song. 

Through  half  a  hemisphere  or  half  a  mile 

The  load  pulls  easiest  harnessed  with  a  smile. 


MISCELLANEOUS  109 


IV 

At  evening's  hour,  when  others  haste  to  dress, 
Condemned  to  theatre  or  fashion's  whirl, 

I  sit  and  give  my  daughter  a  caress, 

Or  in  the  wine  of  thought  dissolve  a  pearl. 

The  pearl  is  often  art's  or  history's  page, 

Which  thought  —  on-leading  to  a  Golden  Age  — 
Would  fain  transmute  into  such  Path  of  Fate 
As  blind  might  follow  to  Elysian  Gate. 

A  Golden  Age  ?     I'm  in  it  even  now  ! 

For,  wanting  little,  I  have  some  for  others. 
(If  any,  hungry,  at  my  feast  would  bow, 

My  morn  or  evening's  richness  is  my  brother's  ! ) 
My  fond  desire  is  that  the  world  may  see 
Earth  gives  enough  for  all  humanity. 

Men  only  need  a  willingness  to  share, 

And  all  the  world  would  breathe  ambrosial  air. 


'T  is  true  I  little  have  of  what  men  prize, 

And  often  (like  the  saints)  wear  shining  garb ; 

But  having  mirthfulness  and  open  eyes 
I  bind  with  velvet  life's  metallic  barb,  — 

Holding  contentment,  though  in  wooden  walls, 

Better  than  selfishness  in  tinseled  halls. 
While  earth's  rich  Saturnalia  still  is  mine 
I  shall  not  fail  of  spirit's  oil  and  wine. 


no  POEMS    OF    LIVING 

I  would  not  change  my  modest  daily  lot 

For  any  wealth  that  brought  with  it  a  care  : 

I  love  my  ease  too  well  to  wish  to  blot 
My  freedom  of  the  sky  and  sea  and  air. 

I  sink  myself  in  soul  and  sense  each  day, 

And  in  voluptuous  shamelessness  grow  gray. 

Nay  !  —  sink  myself  in  joy  each  hour  that 's  rung, 
And  grow  each  year  voluptuously  young. 


THE    LAUGHING   PHILOSOPHER 

[Read  on  a  "  Holmes  night  " —  1891] 

Oh,  not  do  saints  and  bards  alone 

Who  chant  the  high,  the  solemn  verse, 

And  counsel  but  in  serious  tone, 
Help  on  the  better  from  the  worse. 

Full  oft  the  lighter,  gayer  song, 
The  sparkle  and  the  flash  of  wit, 

Which  gurgle,  gush,  and  float  along 
And  in  and  out  and  yonder  flit,  — 

Not  knowing  quite  what  shore  they  reach, 
What  capes  they  pass,  what  gleaming  strand, 

Nor  deem  that  they  a  gospel  preach,  — 
May  also  guide  to  Happier  Land. 


MISCELLANEOUS  in 

Such  song  is  his  —  our  Bard  to-night ! 

His  verses  ripple,  gurgle,  gush, 
Yet  bear  us  with  a  magic  might, 

With  here  a  lag,  and  there  a  rush, 

To  where  we  see  that  lofty  deed 
Doth  Life  of  the  Divine  disburse, 

As  every  dewdrop  on  the  mead 
Reveals  the  rounded  universe. 

I  saw  him  once  —  this  poet  gay  — 

Beside  a  window  in  the  street : 
What  potent  presence  there  that  day 

Could  hold  so  fine  a  poet's  feet  ? 

I  saw  his  face  one  beaming  smile  — 

Intense  enjoyment  gleamed  and  shone. 

Two  mimic  dogs,  on  wires,  the  while, 
Were  tugging  at  a  mimic  bone  ! 

He  turned  —  eyes  met;  —  he  smiled  the  more. 

"Best  thing  I've  seen,"  said  he  (and  bowed), 
"  Since  last  I  by  the  Common's  door 

Heard  Punch  and  Judy  clamor  loud." 

Ah,  well !     As  the  odd  scene  we  spurned, 
"  Life  's  seldom  harmed,"  said  he,  "  by  fun. 

I  like  the  apples  southward  turned  ; 
They  ripen  mellowest  in  the  sun." 


ii2  POEMS    OF    LIVING 

Like  Holmes,  I  too  am  still  a  child. 

I  love  my  baby's  simplest  toys  ; 
Can  dance  or  blow  the  whistle  wild 

With  any  dozen  girls  or  boys. 

And  deepest  thought  nor  highest  hope 
Is  hindered  by  such  moment's  dash. 

I-'m  helped  by  sunshine,  when  I  grope, 
Far  more  than  by  the  lightning's  flash. 

No  less,  the  High  we  need  to  spell ! 

The  loftiest  shown  is  none  too  far ! 
Holmes  —  yes  !  but  Emerson  as  well, 

To  hitch  our  wagon  to  a  star. 

We  need  to  join  the  two  in  one, 
The  happy  and  the  serious  air. 

Ah,  what  of  good  might  not  be  done 
By  progeny  of  such  a  pair ! 

The  age  demands  a  nobler  race 

Than  habits  now  this  whirling  Ball : 

Be  ours  the  Problem  Vast  to  face, 
Be  ours  to  answer  to  the  Call. 


MISCELLANEOUS  113 


INWARD    FIRES 

My  heart  would  sing  for  joy ! 

A  friendly  hand  is  reached 
And  lights  earth's  dull  annoy  ! 
Kindness  is  at  me  flung 
Better  than  song  e'er  sung 

Or  sermon  ever  preached. 

'T  is  not  the  gift  I  prize : 

It  is  the  heart  behind. 
O  men  and  women  !  rise 
To  understand  how  more 
Is  love  than  golden  ore  ! 

Too  long  men's  souls  are  blind, 

With  nobleness  meet  all ! 

Thou  hast  undreamed  return 
In  lifting  feet  that  fall, 
In  rescuing  the  faint. 
No  artist  hand  can  paint 

The  fires  that  inward  burn. 

And  inward  fires  alone 

Are  those  that  warm  us  long. 
Nought  outward  can  atone 
For  sinking  in  the  sea 
Love's  opportunity  !  .   .  . 

Thus  sings  my  heart  its  song. 


ii4  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


SAGE   AND    CLOWN 

I  saw  two  men  as  I  walked  up  town : 

One  a  "  sage,"  men  said,  — and  the  other  a  "  clown." 


The  sage  had  just  come  from  the  halls  of  debate, 
Where  his  "  wisdom  and  courage  "  had  "  saved  the 

State." 

Yet  I  saw  him  just  now,  with  self-confident  grin, 
At  doors  where  true  wisdom  and  strength  ne'er 

go  in. 

The  crowd  at  his  heels  was  surging  thick, 
And  he,  in  his  pride,  with  a  gold-headed  stick, 
Was  reviewing  again,  with  much  flourish  in  air, 
How  well  he  had  "  captured  the  senators  "  there. 
"And  they  voted  at  last,"  said  this  keen  politician, 
"Not  according  to  theirs,  but  to  my  volition ! 
I  ever  can  vanquish  the  men  who  '  think  ' !  "- 
And  then  he  moved  inward  to  "  take  a  drink  "; 
And,  stumbling  in  turning,  he  tripped  o'er  a  child, 
And  greeted  him  harshly,  with  threatenings  wild. 

This,  one  of  the  men  whom  I  saw  up  town  : 
With  "  the  brain  of  a  sage  "-  —  and  the  heart  of  a 
clown. 


MISCELLANEOUS  115 


ii 

Quick  struggling  forward,  with  look  of  alarm, 
Then  saw  I  the  other,  just  come  from  his  farm. 
That  a  man  thus  rude  to  a  child  could  be, 
From  his  cheek  drove  his  soul's  calm  ecstasy. 
His  brow  wore  a  frown  such  as  one  before 
Must  have  worn  who  the  sorrows  of  many  bore 
While  helpless  the  harshness  of  men  to  retrieve  : 
Yet  his  eyes '-light  was  love,  as  when  angels  grieve. 
The  babe  he  uplifted  from  where  he  lay  crushed, 
And  with  words  of  endearment  his  sobbings  hushed. 
In  his  strong  arms  tenderly  bore  he  the  child, 
And  pointed  where  high,  golden  clouds  were  piled, 
And  bade  him  hear  bird-songs  in  yonder  trees 
And  list  to  the  croon  in  the  springtime  breeze. 

This,  the  other  of  two  whom  these  rhymings  would 

gauge : 
With  "  the  brain  of  a  clown  " —  and  the  heart  of  a 

sage. 


n6  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


THREE    QUATRAINS 

i 
SELF-ILLUMINED 

What  if  the  sun  be  darkened  ? 

Eyes  shall  be  hopeful  still ! 
Souls  in  themselves  are  torches 

And  light  what  realms  they  will. 

ii 
WORDS  AND  DEEDS 

Words  !  ah,  words  !    'Tis  easy  writing 
Of  the  ardor  men  should  feel : 

But  't  is  harder,  Paris,  smiting 
Armed  Achilles  in  the  heel. 

in 
THE  DEVIL  OF  DRINK 

Of  all  the  devils  in  time  or  space, 
The  devil  that  has  the  smallest  grace 
Is  the  devil  that  steals  away  man's  wit 
And  leaves  him  but  shame  in  place  of  it. 


MISCELLANEOUS  117 


DREAM -COUNSEL 

[1890] 

I  dreamed  of  you,  last  night, 

Brother  and  friend,  — 
And  all  the  sky  was  light 

And  without  end  ! 
With  wisdom  you  were  fraught, 

Companion  mine  ; 
And,  joyous,  I  was  taught 

In  things  divine. 

I  came  to  you  in  care, 

From  wearying  mart : 
We  parted  light  as  air, 

And  glad  of  heart. 
Where  disappointment's  pain 

Had  weighed  me  low, 
You  changed  the  evening  rain 

To  sunrise-glow. 

Where  I  —  because  my  strife 

For  Truth  and  Day 
Seemed  fruitless,  and  my  life 

But  thrown  away  - 
Was  downcast  and  in  tears, 

With  cheering  voice 
You  banished  all  my  fears, 

And  cried  "  Rejoice  ! 


n8  POEMS    OF    LIVING 

"  Rejoice  !  it  is  the  quest, 

'T  is  not  the  art 
Of  gaining  ends  that  best 

Fulfils  life's  part. 
What  though  for  thee  the  rain, 

The  briar  and  burr  ? 
Oh,  surely  not  in  vain 

Thy  strugglings  were. 

"  Through  years  thy  aim,  thy  call, 

Has  been  for  things 
Exalted  over  all 

That  *  Comfort '  sings. 
'  Truth,'  '  Duty/  '  Good,'  thy  words, 

And  «  Boldness  '  too, 
Beyond  what  common  herds 
Yet  ever  knew. 

"  In  peace,  then,  sleep,  this  night, 

O  troubled  heart ! 
Though  low,  yet  is  thy  plight 

The  better  part. 
And  when  at  last  immured 

In  earth  for  rest, 
Thy  soul  shall  be  assured 

The  strife  was  best." 

So  spake  you  to  me,  friend, 

Within  my  dream, 
Showing  the  nobler  end 

To  be,  not  seem. 


MISCELLANEOUS  119 

Content,  then,  I,  to  dare, 

Without  success ! 
Though  poverty  my  share, 

I  've  blessedness. 


CYPRESS  -  CROWNED 

To-day  the  winds  of  March  are  wild. 
The  swallows  huddle  'neath  the  shore ; 
Their  wings  are  still  —  they  cannot  fly. 
But  yonder,  whirled  about  the  sky, 
The  gulls  are  circling,  o'er  and  o'er  : 
The  gull  is  Ocean's  passive  child. 

The  winds  of  Fate  adversely  blow. 
My  friends  and  fellows  do  not  sing ; 
They  sing  but  when  the  waves  are  calm, 
I  look  not  always  for  the  palm, 
I  take  what  laurels  Fate  may  bring : 
With  cypress  crowned  at  times  I  go. 


120  POEMS   OF   LIVING 


FORELOOKING 

[College  Hill,  Midsummer,  1879] 

I  sit  beside  my  window  here 

And  greet  the  breaking  day. 
The  air  is  calm,  the  sky  is  clear, 

And  yonder  shines  the  Bay ! 

Along  the  silvery  rim  of  light 
Which  marks  the  ocean's  edge, 

Fair  far-off  slanting  wings  of  white 
Sail  slow  beyond  the  ledge. 

Beyond  the  ledge  of  towering  rocks 
Which  mark  the  heights  of  Lynn, 

They  sail  to  where  the  Equinox 
Shall  howl  with  awful  din  ! 

Oh  stay  at  home,  ye  stately  ships  ! 

Oh  stay  at  home  as  I, 
Nor  sail  to  meet  but  sure  eclipse 

Beneath  an  angry  sky  ! 

The  wandering  thought,  the  impatient  heart, 

The  discontented  soul, 
At  best  can  know  of  life  but  part, 

And  not  the  rounded  whole. 


MISCELLANEOUS  121 

But  ah  !  ye  cannot  stay  !  —  e'en  now 

Your  sails  are  seaward  set : 
E'en  now  above  your  burdened  bow 

The  fluttering  sea-gulls  fret. 

And  soon  I  too  must  hence  away, 

To  skirt  uncharted  shores  ! 
Already  in  my  ears  the  spray 

Of  ocean  conflict  roars. 

'T  is  well !  't  is  well,  ye  stately  ships  ! 

Ye  were  not  made  for  calm  ! 
Your  keels  were  laid  to  bear  to  lips 

That  hunger,  Eastern  balm. 

'Tis  well  no  port  of  listless  peace 

Enshields  your  slothful  sail : 
The  ship  that  gains  the  Golden  Fleece 

Must  dare  the  Euxine  gale. 

'T  is  well,  O  heart,  no  life  of  ease 

Before  thee  opens  fair ! 
That  perfect  life  would  fail  to  please 

Which  breathed  but  softer  air. 

'T  is  not  when  zephyrs  kindly  blow, 

And  calmly,  sweetly  steal ; 
When  waters  musically  flow, 

And  laugh  along  the  keel ; 


122  POEMS    OF    LIVING 

'T  is  in  the  dashing  of  life's  wave, 

And  in  the  sudden  shock ; 
'Tis  when  the  soul,  though  stout  and  brave, 

Is  ground  as  on  the  rock, 

That  life's  objective  port  is  neared, 

Its  noblest  courses  run, 
And  souls  of  men  the  straightest  steered 

To  Isles  of  Inward  Sun. 


ZEAL 

To  Be  !     To  Do  !     To  have  the  zeal  to  climb 
O'er  all  the  shocks  of  Fate  to  zones  sublime ! 
To  know  that  Time's  successes,  —  praise  and  blame, 
Are  transient  fires  however  fierce  they  flame ; 
That  soon  and  late  are  equal,  —  death  and  birth,  — 
And  love's  sweet  dominance  alone  of  worth. 
That  toil  and  struggle  and  pain's  agony 
Are  nothing  if  the  inner  eye  but  see  ! 
To  realize,  though  cumbered  in  earth's  ooze, 
That  there  are  heights  with  ever  vaster  views 
To  which  the  soul  is  hasting,  freed  from  strife !  — 
This  is  the  spirit's  pole-star  —  this  is  life. 


MISCELLANEOUS  123 


THROUGH    THE    SUNSET   SEA 

[From  College  Hill] 

The  day  is  done  : 

The  imperial  Sun 

Is  sinking,  now  his  course  is  run, 

Behind  the  hills  of  Arlington. 

Through  purple  mist 

I  view  the  tryst 

The  sunbeams  keep  with  the  clouds  they  kissed 

While  descending  the  Vale  of  Amethyst. 

Through  amber  haze 

I  view  the  blaze 

Forth  streaming  in  red  level  rays 

Over  hillside  paths  and  forest  ways. 

As  Moses'  rod, 
In  the  Story  of  God, 
Was  lifted  where  the  Israelites  trod, 
That  through  watery  walls  they  might  walk  dry 
shod,  — 

So  the  Sun's  last  blaze, 

These  autumn  days, 

Its  rod  of  lurid  enchantment  lays 

WThere  the  Mystic's  crimson  current  plays  !  .   .  . 


124  POEMS    OF    LIVING 

O  people  of  old  ! 

Into  Egypt  sold, 

Ye  there,  as  the  Wonder  Book  has  told, 

Were  oppressed  till  your  hearts  in  dust  were  rolled ! 

Yet  ye  did  not  despair, 

But  from  Pharaoh's  snare 

Escaped  by  the  Red  Sea  beach  laid  bare, 

Into  Canaan's  fertile,  kindlier  air. 

O  sunset  glow 

On  the  river  below, 

Where  I  watch  the  shadows  swerve  and  grow,  — 

Your  secret  message  I  seem  to  know ! 

As  I  gaze  and  dream, 

Your  waters  seem 

To  part  like  that  ancient  fabled  stream  ;  — 

Life's  hungers  are  ever  the  same  and  supreme  ! 

Each  heart  —  like  the  Jews  — 

To  be  led  would  choose 

From  a  land  where  doubts  and  fears  abuse, 

To  a  land  where  faith  all  fear  subdues. 

The  prizes  are  mean 

That  intervene  : 

Be  sundered  !  divided  !  O  vapory  screen  ! 

And  give  us  to  walk  unscathed  between. 


MISCELLANEOUS  125 


AFTER  A   WEEK  WITH   A  WOOD- 
CHOPPER 

[Winchendon,  Massachusetts,  August,  1890] 

Ah  !  in  this  wilding  solitude 
'Tis  easy  to  believe  in  good ! 

Brother,  you  better  knew  than  I  - 
Happy  whose  roof  is  but  the  sky ! 
Tis  truth,  what  Homer,  Bryant,  sang- 
The  groves  to  God  with  praise  first  rang. 
You  call  me  from  the  city's  din 
In  pity  for  my  fight  with  "sin," 
Asking  if  what  to  God  I  owe 
I  can  pay  better  than  with  hoe ! 

Bismillah  !  have  I  so  mistook  ? 
Flee  "  platform  "  f or  a  pruning-hook  ? 
Yet  haply  you  're  not  far  astray ! 
Here  !  I  will  help  you  rake  your  hay,  — 
Watching,  as  from  your  stony  walls 
The  frisking  chipmunk  gayly  calls ; 
Heark'ning,  delighted,  as  the  breeze 
Chants  through  your  oak  and  chestnut  trees,  — 


126  POEMS    OF    LIVING 

While  off  Monadnock's  towering  sides, 
Into  my  heart,  deep  calmness  slides. 

'T  is  truth,  what  ancient  poets  tell ; 
Moses  and  Jesus  worshiped  well : 
In  rose-illumined  bush  the  first, 
The  other  where  the  lily  burst. 
And  joyance  in  the  fields,  ev'n  yet, 
May  better  help  man  pay  "  God's  debt  " 
Than  toiling  in  the  city's  waste 
With  New  Philosophy  and  paste, 
Patching  mankind  afresh  each  hour 
With  Social  Science's  wet  flour. 

In  woodland  deep,  with  axe  or  hoe, 
The  breath  of  health  and  peace  we  know  ; 
While  only  cark  and  thankless  care 
Are  found  in  the  uneasy  air 
Where  metaphysics  swells  in  dykes, 
Leaks  endlessly,  but  seldom  strikes 
Into  the  current  fresh  and  real 
Suggested  by  man's  New  Ideal. 

Happy  the  man  whose  wants  are  few, 
And  ever  met,  however  new, 
By  the  deep,  ample  stores  that  hide 
In  Nature's  simple  woodland-side. 
Wretched,  alas  !  who  constant  delve 
Only  their  souls  to  bind  and  shelve ; 


MISCELLANEOUS  127 

While  wealthy  they,  though  low  their  rank, 

For  whom  sleep  moonbeams  on  some  bank. 

For  them  no  surer  "  bank  "  can  be, 

Nor  richer  with  prosperity  ; 

For,  kneeling  by  the  stream  and  sod, 

At  least  they  may  be  sure  of  God. 


AT   THE    SUMMIT 

All  wearied  in  the  search  for  truth, 
Nor  ever  nearer  to  the  goal, 
I  turn  the  magnet  from  the  Pole 

And  laugh  once  more  as  loud  as  youth. 

O  human  heart !  insatiate 

To  solve  the  secret  of  thy  birth 

And  know  thou  shalt  survive  the  earth ! 

Though  centuries  still  baffled  wait ! 

Enfranchised  from  the  vain  pursuit 
I  greet  with  joy  each  breaking  day, 
And  when  the  sunset  fades  in  gray 

Make  melody  with  voice  and  lute. 

At  least  I  live  and  love,  this  hour ! 
And  meadow,  sea,  and  sky  are  fair, 


28  I'OKMS    OK    LIVING 

And  fellow  workers  everywhere 
Are  battling  tor  man's  larger  tlowei. 

Man's  energies  with  Karth's  keep  time  ; 

High  human  needs  must  still  he  met  ; 

And  simplest  task,  to  duty  set, 
Is  evermore  a  deed  sublime. 

So,  hoping,  singing,  toiling  on, 
1  waive  pursuit  of  skyey  birth, 
To  smooth  rough  pathways  of  the  earth 

Where  feet  must  tread  when  I  am  gone. 


POEMS    OF    LIVING 


TO    PRIZE    LIFE'S    HARDNESS 

To  prize  life's  hardness !  find  delight  in  ways 
That  scale  the  hill-crest  and  the  loftier  air ; 
To  rouse  some  bird-song  in  the  desolate  days 
When  winter  holds  the  forest  frozen  and  bare  ; 

To  wear  the  cypress  as  though  laurel-wreathed  ; 
To  lure  a  smile  from  brows  that  darkly  frown  ; 
To  say  to  traits  of  evil,  age-bequeathed, 
"  Ye  may  be  blotted  out !  "—and  fight  them  down. 

To  take  what  Heaven  or  Circumstance  has  sent 
And  bend  it  to  the  making  of  a  man !  — 
This  is  the  aim  whereto  my  days  are  blent, 
My  fond  endeavor,  waking  vision,  plan. 

O  life !  O  earth  !  I  prize  you  for  your  smart, 

And  for  your  rudeness  I  am  glad  at  heart. 


129 


130  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


HOW    SING'ST   THOU,   THEN? 

The  daily  round  of  life  —  man's  broken  faith, 
The  shock  of  accident,  pain's  bitter  smart, 
Love's  hunger,  disappointment's  mocking  wraith, 
Bereavement's  anguish,  sudden  passion's  dart  — 

O  hopeful  soul  of  mine !  the  daily  round 
Of  life  for  thee  is  no  less  hard  and  black 
Than  other  mortals  in  their  passage  sound : 
How  sing'st  thou,  then,  —  so  often  on  the  rack ! 

And  soul  makes  answer :  Would  it  help  my  state 
To  hail  Despair  ?  to  curse  ?  or  knock  the  breast  ? 
Nay !  but  a  song  will  direst  ill  abate, 
And  bring  the  burdened  heart  unbounded  rest. 

Each  threatening  ill  I  boldly  turn  to  greet, 

And  drown  its  discord  in  my  music  sweet. 


JOY    IN    ONE'S   WORK 

If  in  thy  daily  toil  thou  hast  not  joy, 
Oh  study  to  attain  some  happier  way ! 
So  few  life's  needs,  why  languish  and  grow  gray 
At  tasks  which  serve  thee  but  for  soul's  annoy  ! 

If  work  be  play,  no  questioning  alloy 

Of  "  high  "  or  "  low  "  need  desecrate  thy  day  ; 
The  roof  as  grandly  rear,  the  furrow  lay, 
As  carve  a  statue  for  a  nation's  toy ! 


SONNETS  131 

But  make  thy  moil  a  ministry  of  glee  — 

Of  zeal,  and  mind's  delight,  and  heart's  repose, 
Obedient  to  the  Voice  that  lures  from  sadness. 

No  slave's  mean  service  Nature  asks  of  thee, 
But  spirit's  blossoming  to  leaf  and  rose, 
And  fragrance  making  night  and  day  a  gladness. 


THE    MAN    ON    THE    MOUNTAIN 

When  to  the  mountain  of  enfranchised  soul 
I  came  at  length,  and  scanned  its  sunlit  way, 
No  longer  might  I,  like  a  child  at  play, 
Rove  listless  where  life's  garden  foot-hills  roll. 

Yet  peak  on  peak  so  towered  that  pathless  Whole, 
It  seemed  some  loftier  power  must  with  me  stray, 
And  brace  my  heart,  and  be  my  strength  and  stay, 
If  ever  I  should  gain  that  longed-for  goal. 

Then  just  above  me  I  beheld  a  man 

Whose  face  was  luminous  as  morning  sky, 
Whose  brow  was  freed  from  every  earthly  ban, 
Whose  arms  outstretched  allured  me  wistful  nigh. 

"  Come  up,"  he  said,  "  and  dare  these  heights  with  me  ; 

I  am  the  nobler  man  you  yet  shall  be." 


132  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


HOURS   OF    INSIGHT 

How  blest  am  I  that  often  in  my  dreams 

Come  lofty  thoughts  to  waking  hours  unknown  ! 

Airs  as  of  mountain-tops  are  round  me  blown, 

And  soul  upflames  with  more  than  sunrise-beams. 
Imagination  circles  ;  insight  gleams 

Unwontedly,  with  love  and  purpose  sown  ; 

And  spirit's  blossoms  —  in  Elysium  grown  — 

Allure  my  heart  along  unfailing  streams. 
O  waking  hours  with  pains  and  passions  filled ; 

Poor  human  strivings  for  the  things  that  pass ! 

Rise,  soul,  above  them,  to  serener  heights  ; 
Thy  dreams  forthshadow  life's  high  goal,  if  willed 

And  followed  !     Soon  Night's  visions  fade,  alas  ! 

But  Day's  high  conquests  offer  long  delights. 


MY    FEATHERED    PREACHER 

All  day  my  maples  in  the  blast  have  bowed ; 

The  sleet  howls  lustily  through  shivering  limbs ; 
Yet  e'en  though  ice  the  creaking  branches  rims, 
There  with  high  hardihood  he  hovereth  proud  — 

Busy  and  bustling !     Full  and  sweet  and  loud 
His  warbling  cheer  the  wintry  whistling  dims. 
Earth's  crystal  bowl  with  song  he  overbrims, 
Making  an  altar  of  its  snowy  shroud. 


SONNETS  133 

Soul  of  my  soul !  for  secret,  sheltered  nook 
Must  thou  forever  pray  when  blasts  are  nigh 
And  howling  passions,  seeking  thee,  stream  by  ? 
Nay,  O  my  soul,  in  the  gale's  teeth  dare  look ! 
Still  righting,  sing  !  lift  undismayed  thy  din  : 
Only  undaunted  hearts  scale  heaven  and  win. 


IDEAL    BEAUTY 

Ideal  Beauty  !  —  seers'  exhaustless  theme 

Which  hath  absorbed  their  eager  spirits  quite ! 
Not  beauties  merely  —  of  the  lustrous  night 
And  iridescent  day  ;  but  loftier  dream  — 

Beauty  embracing  beauties.     Fair  the  gleam 
Of  earliest  dawn  ;  a  purifying  sight 
The  heavens  all  diamonded  :  but  more  that  Light  — 
The  heavens'  Heaven  —  of  worlds  and  souls  the 
Beam. 

O  radiant  hill-tops  !  unto  you  mine  eyes  ! 
O  budding  violets  !  all  my  sense  ye  thrall ! 
O  human  comrades  !  heart  of  me  ye  thrill ! 

But  Beauty  uncreate  in  earth  or  skies, 

Eternal  and  divine,  —  soul's  ceaseless  call,  — 
To  thee  my  prayer,  my  passion,  and  my  will ! 


134  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


THE    PATH 


Shall  I  not  bear  my  portion  of  life's  pain,  — 
Of  mind,  —  of  body,  —  and  withhold  all  cry  ? 
Life  hath  evolved  through  pain.     The  studious  eye 
Finds  here  the  path  of  Being's  highest  gain. 

Earth's  agonies  have  been  earth's  bliss,  not  bane. 
Then  spring  the  torture,  if  I  grow  thereby, 
Or  so  the  hope  of  myriads  doth  not  die 
And  nobler  blessedness  on  earth  have  reign  ! 

Many  have  been  whose  flesh  hath  hailed  the  torch, 
Whose  souls  have  welcomed  contumely's  ban, 
Devoutly  chanting  Freedom's  songs  the  while, 

Making  the  gates  of  martyrdom  a  porch 

To  highest  Heaven  —  the  growing  good  of  Man  ! 
Shall  I  not  also  bear,  and,  bearing,  smile  ? 

ii 

The  Path  !     The  Path !     It  has  been  one  of  pain, 
But  must  it  be  so  always  ?     Must  the  rise 
Of  men  and  nations  tow'rds  the  spirit's  skies 
Be  ever  only  under  Sorrow's  reign  ? 

Shall  not  Man's  growing  insight  yet  attain 
A  thornless  pathway  up  to  Being's  prize, 
And  Soul's  revealing  airs  anoint  Man's  eyes 
Till  pangless  harmony  with  Good  lies  plain  ? 


SONNETS  135 

O  happy  Age,  when  Ignorance  lies  dead, 

When  Want  and  Greed  have  fled  their  noisome 

place, 
And  Passion,  thought-redeemed,  seeks  heights 

above ! 
In  this  sweet  Path,  O  Earth,  thy  sons  be  led, 

Till  pain's  long  rule  shall  pass,  and  strength  and 

grace 
Be  won  through  sight  of  Beauty  and  through  Love. 


THE    VICTOR1 

So  calmly,  quietly  he  walked,  that  men, 
Unless  they  knew  the  inward  of  his  days, 
Might  feel  that  he  was  born  for  naught  but  praise, 
And  that  the  native  sunlight  tipt  his  pen. 

But  in  his  path  the  lion  had  his  den, 

And  strangling  serpents  hissed  along  his  ways  ; 
Early  and  late  the  woodland  was  ablaze 
For  him  who  loved  the  coolness  of  the  fen. 

O  Strongheart !  not  in  vain  you  bore  the  strife  ! 
The  lion  and  the  serpent  at  your  word 
Crouched  harmless  and  the  flames  died  impotent. 

We  who  know  all  are  braver  for  your  life, 

And  daily,  since  your  summons  we  have  heard, 
Shall  bear  more  nobly,  walk  more  reverent. 

'Written  of    Henry   M.   Simmons  (1841—1905),  author  of  "The 
Unending  Genesis  "  and  "  New  Tables  of  Stone." 


1 36  POEMS   OF    LIVING 


SPIRALS 

Daily  we  mount  them  all,  from  Pit  to  Dome ! 

Not  Dante's  circling  choirs,  nor  Raphael's, 

Nor  all  the  inmates  of  all  heavens  and  hells 

In  fantasies  of  Asia,  Egypt,  Rome, 
Surpass  the  hordes  that  make  each  soul  their  home. 

The  clank  of  chains,  the  chime  of  silvery  bells  — 

Shame,  Passion,  Song  —  in  turn  each  sinks  and 
swells  : 

Now  faith  soars  high,  now  all  seems  froth  and  foam. 
O  fateful  circle  where  I  most  part  fare, 

Dim  Middle  Region,  —  Purgatorial  fog,  — 

Oppressed  by  equal  hopefulness  and  doubt ! 
At  times  I  fain  would  wing  through  clearer  air, 

Yet  joyful  move  I,  mindless  of  each  clog, 

On  to  what  end  Eternity  works  out. 


HEART'S    TREASURES 

On  winter  meadow  once,  a  little  child 
In  digging  'neath  the  snow  as  fancy  led 
Unroofed  a  tiny  streamlet's  frozen  bed  — 
Then  danced  at  treasures  there,  in  joyance  wild  : 

Rare  icy  arabesques,  rich  gems  up-piled  — 
Encrystaled  wonders  !     But  his  bosom  bled, 
And  sore  he  wept,  as  day  grew  Avarm  o'erhead, 
To  see  them  vanish  in  the  radiance  mild ! 


SONNETS  137 

That  child  of  old  —  long  since  he  grew  a  man ; 
But  ne'er  has  season  flown  —  fall,  winter,  spring  — 
That  magic  streams  have  not  heart's  treasures 

dealt  : 
Sweet  friends,  dear  children  ;   power  to  dream  and 

plan; 
The  earth's  fresh  face  ;   and  —  yea  !  —  the  faith  to 

sing 
Instead  of  weep  when  life's  dear  joys  swift  melt. 


AND    LAST  OF  ALL    I    LEARN    IT 

And  last  of  all  I  learn  it  !     Yea,  O  soul, 

Have  patience  not  alone  with  those  around  — 
Poor  will-less  beings  sin  and  habit  bound : 
With  wealth  that  offers  but  a  piteous  dole 

Though  earth's  faint  children  pant  for  happier  goal ; 
With  statesmen  paltering  on  patriot  ground ; 
With  churchmen  silent  though  God's  trumpets 

sound  : 
With  all  who  fail  of  nearer  perfect  whole ! 

Have  patience  also  —  full,  serene,  and  free, 
Lasting  and  deep,  and  with  as  gracious  part 
As  that  thou  showest  every  wayward  elf  — 

When  thou  hast  failed  to  grandly  do  and  be, 
And  failing,  feelest  sorrow  at  thy  heart, 
Have  patience,  oh,  have  patience  with — thyself. 


38  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


FOILS 


"  I  am  the  master  of  my  fate,"  one  says, 
And  adds,  "  I  am  the  captain  of  my  soul." 
Bravely  a  man  rehearsed  these  words,  in  days 
When  he  was  young  and  fortunate  and  whole. 

From  virtuous  ancestry  his  blood  was  calm ; 

Sisters  and  brothers  —  friends  —  were  his  a  store  ; 
Thorns  were  afar  from  him,  and  pine  and  palm 
Fragrantly  breathed  for  him  on  summer  shore. 

Fate  took  his  wealth ;  a  sister  died  in  shame  : 
Honor  he  scoffed  at  when  his  pride  was  bled. 
One  loved  him  still,  and  would  have  borne  his  name, 
But  while  she  donned  the  orange-blooms  he  fled. 

A  new  face  shone  while  pealed  his  marriage-bell : 

It  beckoned  —  and  he  followed  it  to  hell. 


ii 

' 'Why  should  I  strive  ?     What  boon  can  I  attain  ! 
Fate  had  conditioned  me  ere  I  was  born  ! " 
Such  were  the  manacles  of  damning  pain 
Another  life  from  earliest  years  had  worn. 

His  mother  was  a  woman  of  the  street, 

His  "  father  "  —  she  nor  he  had  ever  known  ; 
The  alleys  were  his  nursery ;  and  sweet 
To  him,  as  to  a  dog,  a  wayside  bone. 


SONNETS  139 

His  country  called  —  ah,  here  was  chance  to  die! 
He  flew  on  savage  wings  and  met  the  foe. 
His  victory  gave  him  courage,  and  his  eye 
Sparkled  with  hope  the  noble  only  know. 

Back  to  the  world  he  came,  and  toiled  elate, 

And  died  an  honored  Minister  of  State. 


PLATITUDES 

The  froth  of  pleasure  quickly  sinks  to  lees, 

Its  taste  soon  brackish  on  the  dullest  tongue. 

Only  the  highest  strife  brings  highest  ease ; 

From  self  alone  is  selfhood's  victory  wrung. 
In  every  prophet-path  rude  crosses  lift, 

And  nails  are  ready  upon  every  hand  ; 

Spear-heads  and  vinegar  are  all  earth's  gift, 

And  quarreling  the  hooting  rabble  stand. 
Who  seek  for  blessedness  need  only  drink ; 

Want  much,  you  thirst,  however  fast  you  pour. 

Seek  peace,  all  heaven  is  yours  before  you  think  ; 

All  that  makes  hell  you  knew  full  well  before. 
Out  on  such  cursed  platitudes  !  but,  —  mark,  — 
The  truth  they  hold  makes  Being  bright  or  dark. 


140  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


NOON    IN    THE    PRINTING-SHOP 

'T  is  noontide.     For  an  hour  the  workers  rest 
Amid  the  quiet  where  but  now  there  rang 
The  fugue  of  type  and  planer,  presses'  clang, 
And  all  the  concords  of  the  printer's  quest. 

Around  me  suddenly,  in  beauty  drest, 

Rise  forest  aisles !     The  notes  of  birds  that  sang 
Long  past,  again  I  hear ;  the  wild  fruit's  tang 
Again  I  taste,  in  dewy  coverts  blest. 

Imagination  !  power  hast  thou  to  take 
From  toil  its  sting,  and  unto  age  impart 
The  vanished  fire  of  youth's  first  morning-glow ! 

Happy  who  learn  thy  simple  law,  and  slake 
Through  charm  of  inner  eye  and  loving  heart 
Earth's  direst  griefs  in  mind's  rich  overflow. 


TRUE    LIFE    OF    US 

True  life  of  us,  where  art  thou  hid  away  ! 
This  ceaseless  moiling  in  the  shop  and  mart, 
This  thoughtless  social  mocking  of  the  heart, 
Which  all-absorb  our  waking,  year  and  day, 

Cannot  be  life  !     At  times  at  evening-gray  — 
Faint  symbol  of  night's  solveless  counterpart 
Which  dimly  waits  —  from  drowsiness  we  start, 
So  fair  the  dream  that  comes,  and  cry,  "Oh,  stay !  " 


SONNETS  141 

Perchance  we  first  time  really  see  a  flower  ! 

Some  inward  grandeur  —  unsuspect — makes  cry  ! 

Or  others'  nobleness  enchains  our  view ! 
In  such  informing  and  exalting  hour 

Earth's  old  futilities  pass  downcast  by, 

And  life  on  sudden  takes  eternal  hue. 


THE    NAMELESS    RECORD 

In  Rome  a  chiseled  marble  told  a  tale 
Of  noble  deeds  and  high  unselfish  life  — 
Though  from  the  tablet  hammer-blows  and  knife 
Had  all  obliterated,  as  with  hail, 

The  great  one's  name  !     Old  centuries  wan  and  pale 
Which  met  blood's  Nemesis  in  awful  strife 
Of  Goths  and  Vandals  —  years  with  horror  rife  — 
Beheld  it,  and  it  weighed  them  in  its  scale 

And  found  them  wanting.     For  not  Pompey's  name, 
Nor  Caesar's,  ever  filled  this  space  with  fear, 
But  hero's  crowned  with  more  than  monarch's  bays 

Some  Greatheart's,  blotting  here  his  sculptured  fame, 
As  knowing  lives  of  selflessness  austere 
Are  lived  from  love  of  love,  not  love  of  praise  ! 


142  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


A;  RADIANT   YOUTH    I    KNEW 

i 

A  radiant  youth  I  knew.     His  glowing  face 
Was  like  a  blushing  rose  of  dawn's  own  tints  ; 
It  scarcely  seemed  he  ought  to  dare  life's  race 
Where  coarser  feet  plowed  deep  their  heedless 
prints. 

I  loved  him  for  his  nobleness,  and  tried 

To  dream  his  coming  great  career  for  Man. 
"O  Fate  !  remove  all  obstacles,"  I  cried, 
"And  in  his  path  uprear  no  evil  ban." 

But  tempters  came  —  one  temptress  most  of  all, 
Who  kissed  his  lips  and  hung  upon  his  neck, 
And  lured  him  to  her  worship  —  sweet  to  gall  — 
Till  on  life's  shore  he  lay  a  battered  wreck. 

On  crags  Caucasian,  vultures  no  more  spare 

A  bound  Prometheus  than  a  blundering  hare. 

ii 

Yet  "all  things  work  for  good  "  !    O  Knowledge  bold, 
'Tis  thus  to-day  with  no  less  cheering  tone 
You  speak  than  saint  or  prophet  spake  of  old, 
Soft  lustre  flashing  through  our  weeping  zone. 

My  noble  one  lies  dead  in  godlike  youth  ! 

Such  powers  as  his  had  rescued  half  a  world  ! 
And  yet  I  must  not  doubt :  't  is  surely  truth 
That  naught  in  Nature  to  the  Void  is  hurled. 


SONNETS  143 

Himself  he  could  not  save  —  will  he  save  others  ? 
His  sacrifice  —  will  it  have  aught  of  force  ? 
While  yet  he  lies  unhearsed,  among  his  brothers 
A  myriad  boldly  venture  the  same  course !  .  .  . 
A  few  —  beweeping  self  —  may  pause  an  hour, 
And  on  his  coffin  fling  —  like  me  —  a  flower. 


SELF-MADE    CROSSES 

After  the  palm  and  cheer  —  the  scoff  and  cross  ! 
But  his  were  love  and  innocence  who  bore. 
Ah !  what  of  those,  the  wilful,  'mid  the  roar 
Of  pitiless  ills  that  mark  their  pain  and  loss  ! 

Sinning,  transgressing,  they  seem  to  wear  the  crown ; 
Joyous  they  laugh,  and  dream  "'Tis  victory." 
Ah  !  but  the  awful  sequence  of  their  glee 
Drags  them  and  strips  them,  fainting,  shuddering, 
down. 

There  —  the  world's  helper,  pierced  by  scorners  who 
With  evil  hands  uplifted  him,  the  pure  : 
Here  —  the  maimed  throng  whose  mangled  lives 

endure 

Only  the  nails  themselves  drove  thoughtless 
through. 

Ah,  even  than  that  Central  Scaffold  drear, 

Sadder  the  crosses  for  ourselves  we  rear  ! 


144  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


CAUSATION 

She  played,  an  innocent  darling,  'mid  the  flowers  ; 
Hid  ivy  foully  poisoned  her.     She  sang, 
A  child,  on  forest  edge,  —  till  suddenly  rang 
Her  agony  from  bee-stings  'mid  the  bowers. 

Grown  to  fair  maidhood,  golden  were  her  hours  ! 
Love  beatific,  holy,  filled  her  breast. 
No  Angel  warned  her  —  why  reveal  the  rest  ? 
Above  her  wave-lapt  corse  no  marble  towers. 

Happy  and  prosperous  one,  by  Fortune  crowned  ! 
Thee  doth  thy  "  virtue  "  keep  ?     And  was  it  "  sin 
That  wrecked  her  of  her  all  ?     Nay,  world,  begin 
More  wisely  Nature's  secret  depths  to  sound. 

Man  needs  a  knowledge  not  yet  taught  in  schools. 

Seek  out  yet  more  her  laws.     Causation  rules. 


HEREDITY 

Avaunt,  ye  myriad  ancestors  of  mine 

Whose  olden  deeds  persist  and  hinder  me ! 
No  longer  I  accept  your  sovereignty  ; 
In  sole  autocracy  I  rise  and  shine. 

If  ye  were  buccaneers,  I  will  incline 
To  acts  that  shall  redeem  your  perfidy ; 
If  ye  perchance  were  tyrants,  I  will  be 
To  all  my  fellows  helpful  and  benign. 


SONNETS  145 

In  whatsoever  ye  were  base  or  sad, 

I  flout  and  overcome  you  one  and  all 

And  rear  henceforth  a  standard  fair  and  high.  .  .  . 
Yet  whence,  O  Sires,  received  I  good  with  bad  !  — 

To  what  staunch  soul,  I  wonder,  am  I  thrall 

In  thus  determining  I  will  be  I  ! 


SELF-  GRATULATION 

When  I  consider  all  my  path  of  life  — 

The  slight  estate  wherewith  my  years  began  ; 

The  baffling  but  indomitable  strife 

To  mould  from  crumbling  clay  a  lofty  man ; 

When  I  recall  the  goblins  of  the  soul 

Which  hoary  Credence  fastened  on  my  youth  — 

The  Past's  rude  superstitions  taking  toll 

Of  ardent  years  which  else  had  served  the  Truth ; 

When  still,  in  memory,  I  front  the  wall 

With  which  Convention  blocked  my  hopeful  way, 

And  feel  again,  as  at  the  earlier  call, 

The  smart  of  strokes  in  Freedom's  holy  fray  — 

I  marvel  at  the  unattained  no  more, 

But  at  the  much,  though  little,  of  my  store. 


146  POEMS    OF   LIVING 


ACROSS   THE    LINE:    AT    FIFTY 

Into  the  river  of  my  life  still  flow 

Streams  of  delight  from  youth's  unfailing  springs  ; 

By  every  flower  that  blows  and  bird  that  sings 

My  heart  is  thrilled  as  in  the  long  ago. 
All  aspirations  youthful  dreamers  know  — 

For  Man  —  for  self  !  the  joy  that  service  brings  ; 

Faith  without  folly  ;  honors  void  of  stings  : 

These  quenchless  orbs  still  keep  my  skies  aglow. 
Mine  also  the  amazement  of  the  child 

At  War's  persistent  shame  —  earth's  sorrow  old  ; 

And  at  men's  strife  to  hoard,  who  need  but  bread. 
O  rills  of  blessedness  divinely  mild, 

Into  my  being's  tide  perpetual  rolled  ! 

From  your  sweet  founts  no  stain,  no  grief,  I  dread. 


SONNETS  147 


ULTIMA   THULE 

Now  cease  to  toil  ?     Nay,  this  for  me  not  yet, 
Thou  youth  who  deemest  growing  age  a  bar 
That  hinders  sight  of  new-ascendant  star 
And  dulls  heroic  zeal  to  soft  regret. 

High  failure  or  high  conquest  doth  but  whet, 
For  noble  souls,  the  will  to  climb  afar 
Where  splendors  of  all  fine  endeavors  are  — 
Transcendent  orbs  which,  rising,  never  set  ! 

Then  pity  not,  dear  youth,  the  growing  gray 
Which  threatens  me  —  no  gray  afflicts  the  soul 
No  vision  yet  of  Utmost  Isle  is  mine  — 

Nor  ever  shall  be  !  for  the  sacred  day 

Will  come  unomened  when  I  reach  the  goal ; 
My  last  step  only  shall  attain  the  shrine. 


148  POEMS    OF    LIVING 


THE    LOVELIEST    ANGEL 

Time  was  —  Time  is.     Our  choice  when  years  were 
young 

Was  Michael  —  he  of  flaming  sword  and  brow, 

Whose   brandished    blade,    and    high,    imperious 
"  Now ! " 

Submission's  cry  from  recreant  Error  wrung. 
Then  thralled  was  soul  by  songs  high  bards  have 
sung, 

And  Gabriel,  God's  courier  to  endow 

The  earth  with  Knowledge,  chose  we,  seeking  how 

To  lift  mankind  to  Heaven  with  luring  tongue. 
Now  night  advances  :  strife  and  teaching  cease. 

Ascends  the  star  of  dreams  when  day  is  done ! 

Of  all  the  Angels,  choose  we  Azrael  ! 
His  name  is  symbol  of  a  longed-for  peace  : 

Not  hooded  is  his  face,  but  like  the  sun, 

And  in  his  hand  the  immortal  asphodel. 


POEMS    OF    NATURE 

/.    MISCELLANEOUS 


IN    TREETOP    LAND 

I  see  you,  robin,  on  your  perch 
High  up  amid  the  maple  there. 
What  hall  of  music,  couch  of  ease, 
Not  built  by  hands,  soft  rocked  by  breeze, 
Could  earth  show  fairer  to  my  search 
Than  swaying  hammock  in  the  air, 

In  Treetop  Land  ! 
Unmindful  of  the  hoarding  strife 
Which  sums  the  sum  of  human  life, 
Ten  cherries  are  enough  for  you  : 
You  only  ask  a  plum  or  two  — 
And  Treetop  Land. 

The  sunshine  streams  at  break  of  day 
And  through  your  leafy  lattice  weaves. 
The  liquid  air  invites  your  wing  — 
What  wonder  that  you  sing  and  sing ! 
Your  busiest  toil  is  busiest  play ; 
No  envy  your  existence  grieves 
In  Treetop  Land. 
149 


150  POEMS   OF    NATURE 

A  prayer  I  breathe  —  an  eager  cry  ! 
"  O  Mother  Nature,  till  I  die 

Dear  hours  and  days  vouchsafe  to  me 
Of  simple,  care-free  liberty  - 
Like  Treetop  Land  !  " 


"A   BREATH    FROM    THE    FIELDS" 

[To  ,  who  sent  to  me,  in  the  city,  a  box  of  spring  blossoms  as 

"a  breath  from  the  fields  "J 

"A  breath  from  the  fields  !  ".  .   . 

Ah  me, 
Could  I  paint  the  vision  I  see ! 

For  under  the  spell  of  these  flowers 
The  thoroughfare,  busy  and  hot, 
And  the  office,  and  work,  are  forgot ; 

And  these  granite  and  marble  towers 
Quick  vanish  away,  and  quick 
The  whole  desert  of  fiery  brick. 

"  A  breath  from  the  fields  !  ".  .   . 

All  day 
My  spirit  has  languished  to  stray 

From  the  City  of  Turmoil.     And  now, 
On  the  magical  carpet  of  Thought, 
On  the  pinions  these  blossoms  have  brought, 


MISCELLANEOUS  151 

I  am  wandering  where  the  bough 
Of  the  elm  with  the  maple  blends, 
And  the  song  of  the  robin  ascends. 

"  A  breath  from  the  fields  !  ".  .  . 
The  sweets 
Of  a  myriad  marguerites 

Are  flooding  with  incense  the  air, 
And  a  dream  my  heart  besets 
As  I  gaze  on  the  violets  — 

A  dream  and  a  splendor  rare  — 
Of  a  brook  where  the  bloodroot  drinks, 
And  the  laughter  of  bobolinks. 

"  A  breath  from  the  fields  !  ".  .  . 

I  catch 
A  view  of  the  leafy  thatch 

That  waves  on  the  meadow's  marge. 
I  roam  in  the  shadows  of  trees 
Like  those  in  Hesperides  ! 

And  I  pluck  from  the  branches  the  large, 
White,  beautiful  apple-sprays, 
Till  the  pain  in  my  heart  allays. 

"A  breath  from  the  fields  !  ".  .  . 
Thank  God 
For  the  friend  who  kneeled  on  the  sod 

To  gather  such  glory  for  me  ! 
The  blossoms  will  fade  ;  but  depart 
Shall  they  never  from  out  of  my  heart  : 


152  POEMS    OF    NATURE 

There,  forever,  their  beauty  shall  be, 
Like  the  blossoms  that  gladden  the  eyes 
Of  the  dwellers  in  Paradise. 


DAFFODILS 

Within  the  winding  woodland  aisles 

Which  stately  crown  our  northward  hills, 
A  myriad  wilding  daffodils 

Bloom  gladly  where  the  sunbeam  smiles. 

How  they  in  such  unwonted  earth 

Found  home  and  blossomed,  none  may  know ; 

But  buds  of  a  more  beauteous  glow 
Ne'er,  out  of  poet's  brain,  had  birth. 

Anigh  their  vernal,  mossy  bed 

The  pine  stands  whispering  to  the  spruce ; 

The  striped  squirrel  —  gay  recluse!  — 
Swings  in  the  branches  overhead. 

Around  their  prize  the  wondering  bees, 
To  such  soft  sweetness  all  unused, 
Buzzingly  gather  till  infused 

With  honey  of  Hesperides  ! 

Thither  the  Naiads  also  come ; 
Thither  the  fairies  fly  in  haste  : 


MISCELLANEOUS  153 

Never  more  humble  courtiers  graced 
A  Beauty's  court  in  Christendom. 

Even  the  lady-ferns  and  sedges, 
Turning  in  sweet  surprise  to  greet 
The  beauty  nestling  at  their  feet, 

Give  the  pale  strangers  welcome  pledges. 

Thither  I,  too,  my  steps  retrace, 

Seeking  the  inspiration  there  ; 

Meeting  within  that  charmed  air 
A  benediction  face  to  face. 


SONATA   OF    THE    DRAGON-FLY 

[The  dragon-fly  flew  in  at  my  open  office  window  in  Boston  one 
day  in  summer,  a  few  moments  after  the  receipt  by  me  of  a  letter 
from  a  friend  at  Vineyard  Haven.  In  the  letter  the  writer  of  the 
same,  by  a  strange  coincidence,  had  playfully  wished  himself  some 
winged  creature  in  order  that  he  might  fly  in  at  my  city  window  and 
whisper  in  my  ear  the  delights  of  his  rural  and  seaside  home  !] 

I  come,  I  come  from  distant  shores  !  — 
From  where  the  wide  Atlantic  roars 

Around  my  island  home  ; 
Where  pebbly  strands  unbroken  lie, 
Ringed  round  with  spray-cloud  mystery, 

Ringed  round  with  silvery  foam ! 


154  POEMS    OF    NATURE 

I  come  from  where  the  trembling  pine 
Chants  chorus  to  the  heaving  brine, 

Chants  sonnets  to  the  sea ; 
From  where  the  myriad-leaved  elm, 
On  brink  of  wide  Neptunian  realm, 

Breathes  soulful  melody. 

I  come  from  meadowy  retreats, 
Where  violets  and  marguerites 

The  livelong  day  repose  ; 
Where  jauntily  the  golden-rod 
And  tufted  stalks  of  asters  nod, 

Mingled  with  sweetbrier  rose. 

I  come  from  where  the  rippling  brook 
Flows  free  through  many  a  sylvan  nook, 

Then  leaps  into  the  sun ; 
Where  ferns  and  grasses  guard  the  brink 
Where  butterflies  descend  to  drink, 

Their  glad  life  just  begun. 

I  come  from  where  the  oriole's  nest 
Hangs  hidden  beyond  the  eager  quest 

Of  hawk  or  schoolboy  hand  ; 
From  where  the  yellow-bird's  golden  hue 
Flits  by  with  a  flash  across  the  blue 

Of  the  high  arch  overspanned. 

I  come  from  where  at  eventide 
The  stars  in  majestic  beauty  glide, 
Outvying  Arabia's  days  ; 


MISCELLANEOUS  155 

Where  nightly  the  firefly's  delicate  lamp 
Gleams  bright  on  the  background  cold  and  damp 
Of  the  furry,  tasseled  maize. 

I  come,  I  come  from  distant  shores ;  — 
From  where  the  wide  Alantic  roars 

Around  my  island  home  ; 
Where  pebbly  strands  unbroken  lie, 
Ringed  round  with  spray-cloud  mystery, 

Ringed  round  with  silvery  foam  ! 


BODY   AND    SPIRIT 

The  fair  October  sky  is  clear, 
The  summer  haze  has  fled ; 

The  glory  of  the  woods  is  near, 
The  maple's  leaves  are  red. 

The  cloudless  morning  sun  is  mild, 

The  fern  its  fragrance  yields. 
"  Come  out  into  the  woods,  my  child, 
Come  out  into  the  fields  !  " 

'  T  is  thus  I  hear  my  Mother  speak,  — 

My  Mother,  Nature  dear ; 
And  while  her  breezes  fan  my  cheek 
I  linger  still  to  hear. 


156  POEMS    OF    NATURE 

"  These  perfect  days  were  never  meant 

For  toil  of  hand  or  brain,"- 
But  made  to  roam  the  continent 
Or  sail  the  misty  main. 

"  The  world  is  too  much  with  us."    -  Yea, 

For  all  men  but  a  few 
Earth's  toil  and  strain  from  day  to  day 
Are  life's  sole  residue  ! 

0  God !  for  what  the  sun  and  sky  ? 
For  what  the  leafy  wood  ? 

Shall  men  forever  live  and  die 
And  call  the  worse  the  good  ? 

But  ah  !  —  myself  —  myself  am  bound 
Within  the  city's  moil  ! 

1  cannot  break,  myself,  the  round 

Of  endless  daily  toil ! 

In  vain  the  beckoning  sumach  calls, 

In  vain  the  rose  is  red ; 
While  labor's  mocking  hour-hand  crawls 

The  aster's  gold  is  dead  ! 

Ah  well !  my  mind  is  still  my  own ; 

My  heart  no  fetters  gyve  : 
My  soul  is  monarch  of  a  throne 

Which  through  all  years  shall  thrive. 


MISCELLANEOUS  157 

To  toil  my  body  Fate  may  urge,  — 

But  unconfined  and  free 
My  spirit  roams  the  mountain's  verge 

And  sails  the  sunlit  sea. 


MYSTIC    RIVER 
[1881] 

O  miniature  river  !  winding  free 
Through  widening  meadows  to  wider  sea, 
Beautiful,  beautiful  art  thou  to  me  ! 

Men  look  on  thy  narrow  wave,  and  laugh  !  .  .  . 
Little  they  know  of  the  cup  I  quaff  ! 
And  what  carest  thou  for  their  idle  chaff ! 

Thou  art  narrow,  and  sluggish,  and  muddy  oft, 
And  thy  margin  is  oozy,  and  low,  and  soft ; 
It  is  no  wonder  that  men  have  scoffed  : 

For  men  are  thoughtless,  through  and  through ; 

And  men  are  idle  and  sluggish  too, 

And  they  laugh  at  themselves  when  they  laugh  at  you. 

Thou  art  wider  at  times  —  when  the  upward  tide 
Brings  a  torrent  of  brine  from  the  ocean's  side, 
And  seaweed  and  kelp  on  thy  current  glide. 


158  POEMS    OF    NATURE 

Then  pleasure-barks  on  thy  surface  float, 
And  fair  lips  wreathe  into  joyous  note 
While  fair  hands  hasten  each  onward  boat. 

Thou  art  wider  still  when  the  tide  comes  in 
With  a  rush  and  a  roar  from  the  sea,  and  a  din 
Like  that  on  the  beach  when  the  storms  begin. 

Then  over  thy  wave  the  sea-gull  dips, 

And  screams  to  his  fellows,  while  slowly  drips 

The  salt  sea  spray  from  his  pinions'  tips  ! 

And  thou  takest  thy  birth  in  lakes  that  are  large, 
With  villages  fair  on  their  prosperous  marge,  — 
And  yet  almost  as  lone  as  when  swept  by  the  barge 

Of  the  Indian  hunters  now  lying  asleep 

Where  the  willow  bends  low  and  the  larches  weep 

On  the  westering  slopes  of  Walnut  steep ;  — 

In  lakes  that  are  quiet,  and  calm,  and  still, 
Where  the  bobolink's  laugh  and  the  thrush's  trill 
Re-echo  o'er  forest  and  meadow  and  hill. 

But,  river !  if  thou  in  thy  breadth  wert  as  great 

As  the  Stream  of  the  South  where  it  pours  through 

the  gate 
Of  golden  Brazil,  and  runs  separate 

For  leagues  in  the  brine,  ever  fresh,  ever  pure ; 
If  thou  in  precipitous  depths  didst  endure 
Dark  caverns  and  cliffs  such  as  oceans  immure  ; 


MISCELLANEOUS  1 59 

If  thou  in  the  circling  embrace  of  thy  banks 
Held  gardens  by  hundreds,  and  castles  in  ranks, 
And  vineyards  like  those  in  the  land  of  the  Franks ; 

If  thou,  with  Euphrates  and  Gihon,  didst  run 
By  the  Garden  of  God,  and  didst  mirror  the  sun 
As  when  first  over  Eden  the  dawn  had  begun  ;  — 

Ev'n  then  thou  couldst  never  peace  richer  impart, 
Nor  ever  be  dearer,  O  stream,  in  my  heart, 
Than  thou  in  thy  slufnber  and  sluggishness  art ! 

For  oft  when  my  bosom  with  conflict  was  torn, 
Thou,  placid,  hast  crooned,  "  Child,  for  peace  thou 

wast  born !  "- 
Till  thy  calmness  my  strife  of  its  passion  has  shorn. 

And  sacred  to  me,  doubly,  trebly,  thy  tide, 

For  the  friends  now  far  sundered  and  scattered  world 

wide 
With  whom  in  my  youth  I  have  walked  by  thy  side.1 

1  Walnut  Hill  was  the  earlier  name  of  the  present  College  Hill 
(Tufts  College).  During  the  years  since  this  poem  was  written  the 
old  Indian  burial-ground  has  disappeared,  its  site  being  now  occu 
pied  by  residences — in  some  of  which,  if  the  belief  of  a  number  of 
the  inhabitants  of  the  neighborhood  is  well  founded,  the  sorrowful 
spirits  of  the  long-departed  aborigines  make  themselves  from  time  to 
time  manifest  in  rebuke  of  the  desecration  by  the  white  man  of  their 
eternal  camping-ground !  The  Mystic  lakes,  also,  wear  no  longer  so 
completely  the  aspect  of  solitude  as  in  the  /ears  previous  to  1880. 
The  dam  and  lock  in  the  river,  at  Medford,  now  holding  the  upper 
reaches  of  the  stream  at  flood,  are  of  recent  date. 


160       POEMS  OF  NATURE 


SUNSHINE 

"  Wohlauf !  es  ruft  der  Sonnenschein 
Hinaus  in  Gottes  freie  Welt !  " 

—  TlECK:  Zuversicht. 

O  sluggish  slumberer,  awake  !  — 

The  sunlight  calls  thee  ! 
Earth's  sullen  clods  beneath  thee  quake ; 
The  promised  buds  of  springtide  break ; 
The  green  sedge  quivers  by  the  lake. 
No  longer  winter's  gloom  appalls  thee, — 
But  out  where  birds  and  blossoms  wake, 
God's  sunlight  calls  thee ! 

The  bobolink  beside  the  brook 

Sings,  never  weary  ; 
The  elms,  that  wings  so  long  forsook, 
Again  for  nests  and  joyance  look ; 
And  where  the  snow-hung  elder  shook, 
And  sighed  through  all  the  winter  dreary, 
The  robins,  as  in  ^Esop's  Book, 

Chant  loud  and  cheery. 

Within  the  woodland  green  and  wild, 

The  fern  is  springing ; 
And  near  the  maiden-hair  so  mild, 


MISCELLANEOUS  161 

And  golden  mosses  high  up-piled, 
The  violet,  Nature's  favorite  child, 
Its  fragrance  on  the  air  is  flinging. 
How  often  hath  its  breath  beguiled 
My  heart  to  singing ! 

O  weary  soul,  beset  by  toil 

From  dawn  till  gloaming ! 
Like  Bunyan's  Pilgrim,  flee  the  broil ! 
Forsake  the  city's  ceaseless  moil ; 
Come  out,  and  tread  the  tender  soil 
Of  Beulah,  where  no  footstep,  roaming, 
Fails  of  the  priceless  wine  and  oil 

Of  Nature's  foaming. 

Pale  students  !  poring  over  books 

And  musty  Latin  ! 

Shakespeare  read  sermons  in  the  brooks ! 
Through  far  Ionian  seas  and  nooks 
Old  Homer,  godlike  in  his  looks, 
Roved  singing  of  Earth's  robe  of  satin  ! 
And  Virgil's  shepherds  timed  their  crooks 

To  Nature's  matin. 

O  aching  feet !  enforced  to  tread 

Hot  urban  places ! 

That  fain  would  wander,  fain  would  wed 
The  velvet  of  some  mossy  bed ! 
Your  pathway,  as  the  Prophet  said, 


162  POEMS    OF    NATURE 

May  sometime  be  through  flowery  spaces ; 
Through  meadows  with  the  happy  dead, 
In  heavenly  places ! 

O  sorrowing  heart !  —  for  him,  for  her, 
Who  left  thee  weeping  ! 

Canst  thou  not  deem  this  wondrous  stir 

Of  springtide  leaf  and  gossamer 

A  mild  angelic  minister  ? 
This  wakefulness,  where  all  was  sleeping, 

Is  it  not  Heaven's  own  messenger 
To  stay  thy  weeping  ? 

May  not  the  clouds  that  roll  afar 

On  life's  horizon 

Flee  too,  like  winter's  broken  bar  ? 
And  in  their  stead  a  glittering  star 
Arise,  that  aeons  shall  not  mar  ? 
This  is  the  hope  our  heart  relies  on  ;  - 
And  such  may  be,  when  rolls  ajar 
Heaven's  fair  horizon. 


MISCELLANEOUS  163 


PAN 

Did  some  one  say  that  Pan  is  dead  ? 

Then  what  was  that  sweet  sound  I  heard 
Which  first  I  thought  was  song  of  bird, 
But  then  perceived  was  far  too  sweet 
For  robin  with  it  to  compete  ?  — 
I  know  that  Pan  not  yet  is  fled ! 

If  still  you  think  't  was  bird's  refrain, 
Oh,  stand  with  me  beside  this  tree ; 
Oh,  stand  a  moment  silently, 

And  when  the  strain  again  rings  out  — 
There  !  hark !    Who  sways  that  vine  about 
Is  that  not  Pan  with  dryad  train  ? 

Persist  you  't  is  but  sun  and  shade  ? 
Why  !  oaks'  and  maples'  rustling  limbs 
Ne'er  tuned  such  sweet  outlandish  hymns 
As  these  dear  olden  runes  that  seem 
The  echo  of  some  Attic  dream. 
No  pipe  but  Pan's  such  sounds  e'er  made ! 

Nay,  comrade,  you  are  surely  wrong. 
Rare  tones  like  these  no  purling  brook 
Made  ev'n  in  loveliest  forest  nook. 
Dear  Pan  himself  is  hidden  there, 
Enshrined  within  that  leafy  lair ; 
'T  is  he  that  ripples  thus  in  song. 


1 64  POEMS    OF    NATURE 

You  say  it  is  a  little  child 

With  its  companions  playing  there  ! 
Red  clover-blossoms  in  its  hair, 
Its  mother  crooning  melodies  !  - 
Ah  !  that 's  the  gladdest  thing  there  is, 
If  Pan  indeed  no  more  runs  wild  ! 

Yet  what  are  birds  and  trees  and  brooks, 
And  what  a  child  and  mother  fair, 
But  Nature  sublimate  and  rare 
Outbursting  into  sweetest  strain, 
Compelling  laughter,  numbing  pain  !  - 
These  all  are  Pan,  as  in  the  books ! 


POEMS    OF   NATURE 

II.     SONNETS 


ONE    WITH    ALL 

I  love  all  changes  of  the  earth  and  air ! 
A  day  of  sleety  turmoil  is  to  me 
A  rare  magnificence,  and  I  could  flee 
Eager  and  happy  to  the  storm-wind's  lair. 

When  pounds  the  tempest  through  the  hills  all  bare, 
Or  thunder  cannonades  the  beating  sea, 
Spirit  of  Nature  !  still  I  speed  with  thee, 
Clinging  triumphant  in  thy  streaming  hair. 

Then  comes  a  day  amid  the  flowers  and  ferns, 

When  breathing  zephyrs  and  low-murmuring  bees 
Speak  Nature's  mood  a  poppy-like  repose. 

The  flame  is  mine  with  which  rhodora  burns, 
The  fragrance  mine  of  scented  herbs  and  trees, 
And  I  am  drop  in  every  brook  that  flows. 


165 


1 66  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


IN    SUBURBAN    WOODS 

How  sifts  the  sunlight  through  these  oaks  outspread  ! 
And  through  their  boughs  what  flash  of  crimson 

wings ! 

Each  cup  and  fern  a  fragrant  censer  swings. 
Earth's  loveliness  to  me  is  daily  bread. 

At  this  rich  board  I  bow  my  grateful  head, 
And  eat  and  drink,  the  while  my  bosom  sings, 
Forgetting  for  an  hour  the  thousand  stings 
Of  yonder  city  —  Palace  of  the  Dead  ! 

At  every  living  tomb,  or  south  or  north, 

The  spirit,  hearkening,  heareth  Nature  chide  : 
"  O  souls  of  men,  to  beauty  why  so  slow ! 

Day's  realm  awaits  you  !     Lazarus,  come  forth  !  " 
And  then,  to  them  that  stand  the  grave  beside : 
"  Unbind  their  cerements !     Loose,  and  let  them 
go." 


SUNRISE    IN    CODMAN    PARK 

[Dorchester,  Massachusetts] 

From  hilltop  circled  by  the  sleeping  town 
I  seaward  gaze  where  gleams  the  early  day. 
The  mists  still  clothe  the  valley-lands  in  gray, 
But  harbor  islands  wear  a  gem-set  crown. 


SONNETS  167 

Southward,  the  Blue  Hill  summits  doff  their  frown, 
Reflecting  eagerly  each  new-born  ray  ; 
While  through  the  elms  the  robin  to  the  jay 
His  gauntlet  of  ecstatic  song  throws  down. 

For  me  alone  is  this  exalting  bliss  ? 

For  me  alone  these  fugue-resounding  walls 
Which  flush  with  beryl  and  with  sapphire  blaze*? 

O  sluggard  souls,  ye  know  not  what  ye  miss 
Who  bring  not  sorrow  to  these  sunrise-halls 
To  find  it  vanish  in  these  notes  of  praise. 


IN    VACATION 

Under  my  Bodhi-tree  cross-legg'd  I  sit, 
And  meditate  in  silent,  grateful  glee. 
Between  me  and  the  sunset  swallows  flit, 
Swift-wing'd  across  the  gorgeous  tapestry. 

Crimson  and  gold  —  all  wonderful  to  see  — 
The  west  is  gateway  to  unfathomed  calm ; 
Serenity  from  hill  and  rock  and  tree 
Bathes  my  freed  spirit  in  unwonted  balm. 

What  wonder  I  respond  with  inward  psalm  ! 

What  wonder  earthly  gauds  seem  poor  and  bare  ! 
With  marvels  Nature  meets  my  outstretched^palm, 
And  smiles  that  I  inhale  this  heavenly  air. 

"Oh  why  so  slow,"  she  cries,  "to  seek  my  face, 

When  peace,  in  all  earth's  quest,  hath  else  no  place ! " 


1 68  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


BY    DARK    OR    LIGHT 

Nature,  by  dark  or  light  thy  life  I  drink ! 
The  midnight  stars  behold  me  as  I  gaze, 
And  smile  in  answer,  hinting  that  the  days 
Are  but  Eternity's  half-lumined  brink. 

The  night  is  opportunity  to  think ! 

And  soul's  own  inner  orbs  expand  and  blaze 
When  round  the  shepherd  Pole  the  star-flocks  graze 
And  fires  of  boreal  Vulcans  glow  and  shrink. 

Yet  when  in  eastern  skies  the  steeds  uprear 
Which  Phoebus  urges  to  celestial  flight, 
The  day  brings  eloquence  night's  lustre  bars  :  — 

The  sheen  of  dewy  meadows  far  and  near, 
The  opal  hills,  the  ocean's  purple  might, 
And  human  faces  lovelier  than  all  stars. 


ENCHANTED    GROUND 

I  am  a  Parsee.     Thee  I  praise,  O  Sun ! 
Squirrel  nor  thrush  is  earlier  astir 
Than  I  when,  bursting  through  the  upland  fir, 
I  mount  some  steep  to  hail  new  Dawn  begun. 

And  when  the  showery  west,  all  diamond-spun, 
Is  pied  with  flame  as  dies  Day's  messenger, 
I  gaze  still  rapt,  —  Light's  loyal  worshiper,— 
And  hymn  the  hymns  of  priests  in  Babylon. 


SONNETS  169 

Omar !  the  earth  was  all  enchanted  ground 
To  thee  who  sold  thy  rosary  for  wine  — 
The  wine  of  Beauty,  filling  Nature's  cup. 

Thy  temple's  arch  the  sky  alone  could  bound. 
Scaling  its  walls,  —  no  narrower  worship  mine,  — 
To  Heaven  each  day  I  climb  exultant  up. 


SO    LIKE  THE    SPRING   SHE   STANDS 

[Written  of  my  Daughter] 

Again  we  wander  —  she,  my  soul's  delight, 
And  I,  her  dear  companion,  lover,  friend  — 
To  hilltops  where  the  elms  and  maples  send 
Their  first  faint  greenness  through  the  landscape 
bright. 

The  flicker  calls  us  to  pursue  his  flight ; 
The  robin  welcomes  us  to  join  the  trend 
Of  lavish  life  upspringing,  and  to  spend 
Improvidently  on  the  ear  and  sight. 

Once  more,  as  when  she  plunged  her  infant  hands 
In  wealth  of  Western  prairies,  —  years  between,  — 
We  search  and  sing  and  know  life  still  is  sweet. 

Yet  now,  dear  girl !  so  like  the  Spring  she  stands, 
To  gaze  upon  her  fairness  of  eighteen 
My  eye  forsakes  the  windflower  at  my  feet. 


1 70  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


THE    EARTH    AT    PLAY 

Acres  of  daises,  —  buttercups  between,  — 
And  over  them  the  sunny  Sunday  sky ! 
Daisies  as  thick  as  stalks  in  fields  of  rye ; 
More  buttercups  than  eyes  before  had  seen 

Though  love  had  measured  tenfold ;  spires  of  green 
The  gowans  gay  uptossing,  —  straight,  awry, 
O'erswung,  upsoaring,  —  endless  to  the  eye  ; 
The  yellow  crowfoot  hordes  enmeshed  serene. 

I  think  if  I  could  count  those  blooms  afield, 
Which  yesterday  the  wanton  breeze  o'erswept 
In  billows  white,  green,  golden,  I  could  say 

How  many  love-lights  children's  faces  yield 
When  kisses  greet  them  after  they  have  slept. 
And  they  go  out  to  join  the  earth  at  play. 


HILLS    OF    MORNING 

I  wake  —  and  gaze.     Behold  !  a  mountain  range 
Which  never  from  my  window  showed  before ! 
What  magic  reared  those  precipices  strange, 
Adown  whose  depths  vague  avalanches  pour ! 

The  mighty  mass  —  dim  distances  away  — 
Heaves  on  and  on,  an  Adirondack  pile. 
My  soul  hangs  worshipful,  and  fain  would  stay 
To  gaze  where  soars  such  marvel  mile  on  mile. 


SONNETS  171 

But  then  I  see,  with  heart  that  sudden  sinks, 
Vast  slaty  clouds  are  all  my  heavenly  view  ! 
My  continent  of  towering  summits  shrinks 
As  streaming  Day  transmutes  to  gold  the  blue. 
Yet,  eyes,  repine  not !  on  your  sight  was  cast 
Undreamed-of  beauty,  though  so  soon  o'erpast. 


COMRADES 

I  hear  him  calling  —  I  must  go  awhile, 

For  compact  we  have  made  most  true  and  strict. 
When  either  hails,  then  ere  the  sun  has  nicked 
Ten  seconds  on  the  oak-top's  soaring  dial, 

The  other  —  faithful  in  the  loyal  style 

Of  souls  whose  confidence  was  never  tricked 

By  comrades  proving  dull  or  derelict  — 

Must  answer  through  the  woodland's  leafy  aisle. 

Then  shut,  my  Shakespeare,  —  Plato,  you  may  wait ; 
My  cornfield,  sun  and  rain  may  care  for  you ; 
Sad  world,  an  hour  I  leave  you  to  your  plight ! 

Ceaseless  the  cark  of  Body,  Mind,  and  State, 
While  love's  sweet  fellowships  are  far  and  few. 
Recalls — I  answer.    "  Here  's  Bob  White  !"   "Bob 
White  !  " 


i/2  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


TO    MY   OLD    WHEEL 

Thousands  of  miles  of  richness  !  lofty  joy 

Beyond  what  noblest  verse  might  hope  to  swell ! 

Ungrateful,  then,  should  I  not  strive  to  tell 

The  benediction  of  thy  rare  employ. 
Through  thee,  Atlantic's  edge  hath  been  my  toy  ; 

Through  thee,  my  heart  hath  danced  in  field  and 
fell; 

Through  thee,  unnumbered  draughts  at  Bethlehem's 
well 

Have  sins  assuaged  and  banished  world's  annoy. 
Through  thee,  the  hills  their  purple  haze  have  lent ; 

Voices  of  bobolinks  have  been  the  choir 

Which  tuned  the  grottoes  where  I  found  a  shrine ; 
Hemlock  and  larch  have  swung  my  studious  tent ; 

Morning  and  eve  have  lit  my  sacred  fire ; 

Paphos,  the  Muses,  and  God  Pan  were  mine. 


ON    CROSSING    THE    CHARLES   AT 
ITS    MOUTH 

O  river,  over  which  at  morn  and  night 
To  daily  toil  the  lightning-harnessed  car 
Swift  hurries  me  in  worn  or  thoughtful  plight,  — 
Full  many  a  dream  thou  bring'st  of  happier  star  ! 


SONNETS  173 

All  thoughtless  were  the  hours  I  spent  on  thee 
And  rowed  or  drifted  up  or  down  thy  tide, 
Winging  with  gulls  into  the  upper  free, 
Speeding  with  ships  to  lands  of  Eastern  pride. 

Far  back  as  dear  those  days  of  boyhood  sweets, 
Where  growth  and  health  were  won  for  later  toil : 
No  crash  of  pride  or  change  which  fortune  meets 
Can  mar  old  gains  or  darling  memories  spoil. 

To-day  rude  traffic  on  thy  breast  may  roar, 

Still  calm  I  float  along  an  Eden  shore. 


A    SPRAY    OF    HEMLOCK 

You  spray  of  hemlock  on  my  city  wall, 

I  gaze  at  you  remembering  whence  you  came ! 
That  thence  I  ravaged  you,  oh,  bear  no  blame, 
For  winter  now  enshrouds  me  in  its  pall. 

I  listen,  and  I  hear  the  squirrels  call 

Which  shot  your  living  green  with  tawny  flame ; 
Ay,  listen,  and  I  seem  to  hear  the  same 
Dear  murmur  of  the  gurgling  brooklet's  fall. 

I  crush  your  fragrant  fibres  in  my  hand, 
And  senses  swim  with  spicy  odors  won ; 
Above  me,  wide  cerulean  depths  expand, 

Where  snowy  shallops  sail  enriched  with  sun ; 
I  need  no  more  to  dream  of  Beulah-land, 
Thyself  art  Beulah  here  and  now  begun. 


i/4  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


GULL   AND    WAVE 

When  oft,  a  boy,  I  sought  the  lonely  bay 
In  winter,  when  the  icy  surges  crashed, 
I  hailed  the  waves  companions  as  they  dashed, 
And  leaped  from  rock  to  rock  as  wild  as  they. 

Along  the  shore  I  flew,  to  meet  the  spray ; 

And  when  with  brine  the  gulls  and  I  were  splashed, 
I  joined  their  screams,  as  joyed  and  unabashed. 
The  gulls  and  I  were  brothers  in  that  day. 

O  wider  zones  which  years  have  called  to  sight, 
O  thought  and  toil,  O  soul's  exultant  dream, 
O  friendship  of  good  women  and  good  men  — 

Together  ye  have  wrought  for  life's  delight : 
Yet  happy  I  when  comes  in  sleep  the  gleam, 
The  rapture,  of  the  gull  and  wave  again. 


EXEMPLAR 

How  am  I  worthy  that  you  thus  should  bring, 
Dear  friend,  to  glorify  my  city  room, 
Wild-primrose  leaves  and  clustering  strawberry- 
bloom, 
First  marvels  of  cold  April's  blossoming  ? 

These  crimson  maple-buds  lift  voice  and  sing ; 

And  though  my  sunless  casements  look  on  gloom, 
And  winds  to-day  from  eastward  wail  and  boom, 
I  sit  companioned  by  refulgent  Spring. 


SONNETS  175 

"  How  am  I  worthy  ?  "     Nay,  't  was  not  my  worth 
But  thy  beneficence  that  roamed  the  wood 
And  brought  these  wonders  to  revive  my  heart  ! 

Shall  Syrian  dreamer's  dream  come  yet  to  birth, 
And  all  mankind  know  earth's  abundant  good, 
In  Nature's  richness  sharing  part  and  part  ? 


ON    CAPE   ANN 

How  wondrous  were  the  breakers  that  rare  day !  - 
A  day  in  happy  memory  secure ! 
Not  forty  added  years  provide  the  lure 
To  shroud  the  picture  in  forgetful  gray  : 

The  summer  sunrise  flooding  all  the  bay, 

The  gray,  ribbed  sands  which  ceaseless  shocks 

endure ; 

While,  buoyant  in  youth's  dauntless  vestiture, 
Two  boys  were  daring  the  tumultuous  fray. 

Shot  through  with  sun,  the  waves  rolled  mobile  in, 
Great  walls  of  gleaming  topaz,  liquid  flame, 
Engulfing  us  in  tides  of  heavenly  fire. 

With  awe  we  plunged  amid  the  whirling  din  — 
To  rise  refulgent  !   for  our  forms  became 
Like  Hermes'  when  he  flashed  in  gods'  attire. 


176  POEMS    OF   NATURE 


DEAR    MOTHER    EARTH 

Fair  is  the  prisoned  sunlight  in  a  gem, 
But  dreary  doom  were  city  in  the  sky 
Whose  walls,  foundations,  gateways,  low  and  high, 
Were  "  beryl,"  "  jacinth,"  "  chrysolite."     To  them 

Who  dwell  there,  Allah's  peace !  —  but  I  should  stem 
The  bright  grim  battlements,  and  crave  to  fly 
Down  to  dear  Mother  Earth  again,  where  I 
Am  healed  if  I  but  touch  her  garment's  hem. 

These  silver  birches  drenched  with  morning  dew, 
These  sumachs  clambering  from  the  jeweled  grass, 
No  realm  of  gold  and  chrysoprase  could  give. 

An  Eden  new  each  day  I  wander  through, 
And  pines  and  hemlocks,  towering  as  I  pass, 
Enwall  the  Heaven  where  I  could  love  and  live. 


TWO    WISPS    OF    STRAW 

I  have  seen  straw  afield,  what  time  the  grain 
Of  rich  September  rose  in  yellow  shocks, 
And  wondered  at  the  wealth  which  brawn  and  brain 
Had  tortured,  tireless,  from  New  England's  rocks. 

And  I  have  viewed  rare  galleries  arrayed 

With  tapestries  of  straw  from  Orient  shrines, 

By  patient  artist  fingers  interlaid 

In  storied  scenes  and  arabesque  designs. 


SONNETS  177 

But  these  two  tattered  wisps  which  I  beheld 
To-day  as  Winter  is  just  loosening  hold, 
Gave  inward  vision  rarer  joy  than  welled 
At  human  artifice  or  harvest  gold  : 
For  these  were  woven  to  a  bluebird's  tune, 
And  spoke  of  treetop  joyance  and  of  June. 


NATURE'S    FOUNDLINGS 

When  lush  Marsh-Marigolds  their  bloom  unfold 
In  moisty  vales  where  April  brooklets  run, 
They  lift  their  yellow  radiance  to  the  sun 
In  joyance  never  dreamed  by  market  gold. 

Near  them,  frail  Bloodroot  —  meek  though  sanguine 

stoled  — 

Her  white  plumes  blossoming  from  juices  dun  — 
Playfully  trembles  at  the  mocking  fun 
Of  Cranesbill  shuddering  as  if  ghostly  old. 

I  laughed  with  them  to-day  on  sunny  banks 
O'erhung  by  hemlocks  widely  topping  all, 
And  raised  my  own  glad  song  in  quiet  thanks 

That  on  this  busy,  phantom-chasing  Ball 
One  soul  at  least  was  free  to  join  the  ranks 
Of  Nature's  foundlings  beyond  city  wall. 


1 78  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


THE    SECRET 

How  blest  am  I,  who  blissfulness  can  find 
In  commonest  delights  that  greet  my  hand ! 
I  cannot  flee  Earth's  richness  ;  —  move  or  stand, 
Her  treasure  to  my  coffers  is  inclined. 

The  clouds  that  seem  the  sky  and  earth  to  bind, 
The  daisies  dancing  to  the  breezes'  band, 
The  waves  that  roll  to  wedlock  with  the  land,  - 
My  beggar's  bowl  runs  over,  glory-lined  ! 

The  meadow-sparrow's  muse,  the  sun's  caress, 
The  challenge  of  the  cliffside's  beckoning  call, 
The  comradeship  of  brooks  along  my  path,  — 

To  some,  a  sighing  in  the  wilderness ! 
Yet  forum,  theatre,  nor  banquet-hall, 
Nor  gold,  nor  power,  nor  praise,  such  blessing  hath. 


SONNETS  179 


SPIRIT    WITH    SPIRIT 

The  pall  has  fled  which  dulled  the  early  east  - 
The  swift  white  wonder  of  the  dawn  is  nigh. 
Refreshed,  transfigured,  by  the  night  passed  by, 
I  leap  participant  to  Nature's  feast. 

Oh,  marvelous,  that  I,  who  seem  the  least 
Of  natural  things  beneath  this  roseate  sky, 
Should  thus  exalted  be  —  that  thus  am  I 
On  hilltop  chanting,  worshiper  and  priest. 

O  body  of  me,  which  fifty  years  hath  sprung 
Up  craggy  heights  and  foraged  in  the  dales, 
Still  youth's  elastic  fibre  thrills  in  thee ! 

O  soul  within,  that  ages  old  hath  sung 
In  skyey  deeps  where  spirit  Spirit  hails, 
Thine  still  is  youth  —  thine,  ageless  ecstasy. 


i8o  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


THE    PENDULUM 

Nature,  in  thy  glad  temple,  to  and  fro, 
Ever  the  pendulum  of  beauty  swings  ; 
Summer  or  winter,  spring  or  autumn,  brings 
Rapture  of  eye  where'er  we  turn  or  go. 

Dawn-dew,  the  virtue  of  the  sunrise-glow, 

The  grasses'  strength,  the  spruces'  freshening  rings, 
Fall's  smokeless  flame,  white  wreaths  December 

flings,  - 
Largess  of  beauty  gods  might  joy  to  know. 

Surely,  O  Nature,  thine  no  mocking  bloom  ! 
Vibrates  thy  pendulum  not  aimlessly,  — 
An  order  meaningless,  —  a  dial-less  clock  ! 

Yet  where  revolve  thy  hands  that  point  our  doom  ? 
And  how  through  ages  is  rewound  thy  key  ? 
No  answer  greets  us  though  we  knock  and  knock. 


ki 


POEMS    OF    NATURE 

///.     SONNETS  Of    THE  BLUE  HILLS  RESERVATION, 
MASS  A  CHUSE  TTS 


INDIAN    SUMMER 

Back  for  a  day  or  two  are  come  the  glow 
And  warmth  of  August,  as  October  wanes. 
The  air  is  languorous  glory.     The  proud  stains 
Of  ripened  verdure  signal  high  and  low 

O'er  hill  and  dale.     Soft  showers  come  and  go. 
Forgetting  yesterday's  sharp  frosts  and  pains, 
Earth  laughs  at  losses,  rich  with  sudden  gains 
As  magic  lights  and  shadows  sink  and  show. 
"  Come  out  and  visit  us  !  "  the  Blue  Hills  call : 
"  From  Rattle  Rock  or  Chickatawbut  scaled 
See  leagues  of  undulating  glory  spread  ! 

Hourly  my  crimson  curtains  rise  and  fall ;  — 
Oh  come,  nor  let  my  pageant  pass  unhailed, 
No  footfall  sounding  but  the  fox's  tread  !  " 


181 


182  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


IN  THE  BLUE  HILLS  IN  NOVEMBER 

i 

In  the  Storm  of  Sunday,  November  13 

Where  Kitch-a-makin's  rocky  front  upheaves 
O'er  Sassamon's  fair  notch  in  rugged  lines, 
The  clinging  fern-growth  full  as  bravely  shines 
This  dreary  day  as  when  the  Spring  unweaves 

The  first  rare  fronds  that  venture.     The  wind  grieves 
And  sleet  whirls  wild  ;  but  hazels  wave  me  signs 
That  tempests  daunt  them  not,  and  blackberry-vines, 
Still  green  and  red,  run  riot  through  dead  leaves. 

In  Sassamon,  through  all  the  Winter's  snows, 
Those  ferns  from  their  bleak  crevices  peep  out 
And  hail  the  hardy  wanderer  through  the  hills. 

They  never  fail  him.     Happy  he  who  knows, 
Amid  the  city's  lonely-populous  rout, 
Where  welcome  waits  which  soothes  all  earthly  ills. 

ii 

In  the  Sunshine  of  Sunday,  November  20 

November  —  fickle  monarch  —  jocund  rules  : 
For  what  a  morning  !  —  air  the  air  of  May, 
In  Sassamon  the  chickadees  at  play, 
And  zephyrs  dancing  over  ice-clad  pools  ! 

Nahanton's  frosty  forehead  steams  and  cools, 
And  on  his  shriveled  breast,  so  lately  gay, 


BLUE    HILL    SONNETS  183 

Dead  stalks  of  golden-rod  and  asters  sway 

In  ghostly  caps  and  bells  —  poor  Nature-fools  ! 

Alas  !  't  is  but  an  hour  or  two  of  sun, 

And  then  the  freezing  night  shall  lull  again 
To  dreamless  sleep  this  dull  half-wakened  bee ! 

Yet  flaunt,  O  sumach-plumes,  till  day  is  done ! 
Your  faith,  surviving  keenest  joy  and  pain 
Which  life  can  blend,  is  eke  the  faith  of  me. 


ON    HANCOCK    HILL 

On  Hancock  Hill  are  joys  all  lovers  know 

Whose  loves  are  birds  and  flowers,  and  tinkling 
brooks 

That  run  unseen  though  heard,  'neath  rocky 
nooks,  — 

Mysterious  streams  as  those  of  storied  flow. 
O  ferny  dells  !     O  chestnuts  bending  low  ! 

I  hail  you  and  return  the  tender  looks 

You  give  admirers,  while  your  leafy  hooks 

Reach  out  to  hinder  them  what  time  they  go. 
For  me,  I  go  not  hastily,  —  too  sweet 

The  prospect  distant  and  the  riches  near ; 

And  oft  I  witness,  as  I  pass  a-thrill, 
The  violet  and  the  cranesbill  touch  and  greet, 

Each  whispering,  "  No  harm  from  him  we  fear ; 

He  loves  us  all  too  well,  on  Hancock  Hill." 


1 84  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


IN    WILDCAT    NOTCH 

No  more  the  wildcat  snarls  in  these  stern  aisles  ; 
Gray  frisking  squirrels  in  his  haunts  have  home, 
And  hither,  thither,  bright-hued  insects  roam, 
Gay  gleams  of  color  'gainst  dim  rocky  piles. 

No  wolf  now  lurks  with  predatory  wiles ; 
But  from  their  coverts  in  the  forest  dome 
Veery  and  ovenbird  flash  amid  the  gloam, 
Their  clarions  ringing  through  these  rude  defiles. 

For  me,  here  throned  on  mossy  granite  ledge, 
'Neath  pines  serene  that  utter  Orient  balm, 
Earth's  brute  contentions  fade  and  are  forgot. 

Anew  to  simpleness  my  soul  I  pledge. 
Nirvana  —  conscious  unison  with  Calm  — 
Expands  within  me.     Strife  henceforth  is  not. 


IN    WONDER    EVERY    HOUR 

[At  "The  Crags"] 

I  gaze  anew  in  wonder  every  hour 

At  all  the  strange  sweet  beauty  of  the  world  - 

The  marvel  of  the  nearest  budding  flower ; 

Dark  cloud-rack  flying ;  waves  in  frolic  curled. 
Yon  harbor's  edge  a  realm  of  mystery  glows  — 

Each  circling  beach  a  lure  of  sands  and  shells. 


BLUE    HILL    SONNETS  185 

The  secret  of  these  hills  my  spirit  knows 
And  drinks  refreshed  at  Meditation's  wells. 
Last  night  the  darkness  caught  me  on  The  Crags 
High  hung  above  the  alder-shaded  spring ; 
October  maples  waved  their  radiant  flags 
And  showed  my  feet  each  crevice  where  to  cling. 
Earth's  grief  and  toil !  how  futile  is  your  fuming 
When  thus  for  me  each  hour  some  rose  springs 
blooming. 


WINTER    GLORY 

A  few  gay  snow-birds  with  their  brave  "  Cheep, 
cheep  !  " 

Allured  my  feet  this  morning  to  the  hills. 

The  earth  is  snow-clad,  but  melodious  rills 

'Neath  icy  crust  refuse  to  lie  asleep. 
No  step  till  mine  has  crunched  the  vale  or  steep 

Since  came  the  snow  ;  but  trails  the  partridge  drills 

Are  plain  to  wondering  sight,  and  vision  thrills 

At  tracks  where  foxes  lurk  and  rabbits  leap. 
Up  gleaming  Chickatawbut's  slippery  cone 

I  climb  to  view  far  Cheshire's  flower  of  white.1 

Below  me  calls  the  hardy  chickadee  ; 
The  keen  breeze  through  the  pines  has  bravest  tone ; 

With  sun  the  frost-fringed  oak-leaves  are  alight. 

One  are  brook,  bird,  and  leaf,  and  heart  of  me. 

'The  peak  of  Monadnock,  sixty-eight  miles  distant. 


1 86  POEMS    OF    NATURE 

ON    BOARD    SHIP    IN    SASSAMON 
NOTCH 

To-day  the  pines  on  Kitch-a-makin  roar. 

Far  up,  their  snowy  topsails  thrash  and  sway 

Like  reeling  ships  in  Ocean's  Titan  play, 

While  through  this  granite  notch  such  currents  pour 

Of  biting  blasts  unleashed  from  Winter's  store, 
That  I  can  hear  and  feel  the  hurtling  spray 
Of  tempests  thundering  in  Baffin's  Bay, 
Where  I  am  shipwrecked  on  that  Arctic  shore ! 

You  sailors  on  the  February  main, 

To-day  your  jovial  sea-songs  are  you  chanting, 
As  in  the  tales  which  fireside  readers  please  ? 

Or  are  you  clinging  —  ice-clad,  numb  with  pain, 
In  desolate  despair  and  horror  panting  — 
To  frozen  shrouds  in  pitiless  swashing  seas  ! 


GAIN    STILL   THE    GOAL 

[On  Doe  Hollow  Path] 

On  wide-spread  wing,  O  hawk,  thou  sailest  high, 
While  I,  good  lack  !  toil  plodding  through  the  snow ! 
If  I,  like  thee,  might  too  on  pinions  go 
Should  I  be  happier  in  that  trackless  sky  ? 

On  wings  should  I  be  free  from  cause  to  sigh  ? 
Would  strifes  be  absent,  life  no  bafflings  know  ? 


BLUE    HILL    SONNETS  187 

No  grief  thou  hast  in  any  winds  that  blow  ! 

Should  I  be  thou  —  or  should  I  still  be  I  ! 
Silent,  thou  wingest  from  my  ken.     No  less, 

O  denizen  of  untried  altitudes, 

In  my  brief  sight  of  thee  is  food  for  thought. 
I  will  content  me  with  what  power  to  bless 

These  snowdrifts  offer,  and  by  patient  roods 

Gain  still  the  goal  thy  flight  had  swifter  brought ! 


VINE    AND    BIRCHES 

A  Fable  of  Pine-  Tree  Brook 

To-day  the  vine  and  birches  held  commune. 
(I  know  their  language,  for  I  listen  much  — 
And  love  their  speech,  their  sanity  is  such. 
They  sometimes  even  bid  me  join  their  rune  ! ) 

To-day  love's  friendliness  was  all  their  tune, 
Indignant  that  December's  boisterous  touch 
Had  striven  remorselessly  the  grapevine's  clutch 
To  rive  from  branches  where  it  dreamed  of  June : 

"  Hold  brave,  O  Vine,  against  our  breasts  of  snow  — 
The  springtime  sun  arrives  again  apace  ! 
While  speeds  the  earth,  opposing  winds  shall  blow ; 

Resolve  !  —  thy  battling  brings  unlooked-for  grace  ! 
The  bliss  of  summer  eves  thou  yet  shalt  know, 
October's  purple  clusters  crown  thy  face  !  " 


1 88  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


"THE    SHANTY' 

[  It  is  said  that  the  opening  sentence  of  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress," 
appropriated  here,  refers  to  the  cramped  cell  in  Bedford  Gaol  where 
Part  I.  of  the  famous  allegory  was  written.  ..."  The  Shanty"  is  a 
little,  old  house  on  an  abandoned  farm  on  the  edge  of  the  Blue  Hills 
Reservation,  hired  by  a  group  of  a  dozen  or  fifteen  Nature-lovers 
who  know  the  secret  of  its  entrance,  —  wood  being  always  stored  at 
hand  for  the  roaring  fireplaces  in  winter,  and  a  spring  bubbling  near 
for  the  thirsty  in  summer.] 

"As  through  the  wilderness  "  of  that  dear  world 
Where  Care  eludes  and  Rest  and  Worship  meet, 
"  I  walked  "  to-day  with  ever  freshening  feet, 
"  I  lighted,"  while  the  beating  snowstorm  whirled, 

"  Upon  a  certain  place,"  in  calmness  furled, 

"  Where  was  a  Den."     Not  Bunyan's  shamed  re 
treat, 

Which  genius  glorified  with  visions  sweet, 
But  just  "The  Shanty,"  by  the  roadside  curled. 

Within  the  dooryard,  skis  and  snowshoes  propped 
Gave  sign  afar  that  Brothers  of  the  Free 
Had  come  an  hour  to  read  or  feast  or  play. 

What  wonder  that  expectantly  I  stopped,  — 

For  howling  winds,  red  logs,  full  minds,  and  glee 
Still  widen  walls  as  in  rare  Bunyan's  day ! 


BLUE    HILL    SONNETS  189 

THE    SILVER    BIRCH 

[Near  Indian  Camp  Pool] 

I  asked  the  silver  birch  how  came  its  bark 

So  passing  fair,  so  wondrous  to  the  sight. 

"  Behold  !  "  I  said,  "your  cheeks  how  smooth  and 
white, 

While  all  your  woodsy  kin  are  bossed  and  dark ! 
At  eve,  as  I  went  singing  through  the  park, 

Though  Venus  and  Arcturus  veiled  their  light, 

Your  beckoning  moonshafts,  gleaming  through  the 
night, 

Drew  eyes'  swift  archery,  a  shining  mark !  " 
Then  spake  the  tree  :  "  We,  too,  were  dull  when  earth 

First  knew  us ;  but  when  winter's  shroud  of  snow 

Enwrapped  us,  and  our  brothers  wailed,  we  laughed  ! 
A  god  quick  cried,  '  O  birches,  Man  needs  mirth : 

For  all  time  in  this  snowy  splendor  glow ! 

Who  solves  your  secret,  life's  best  wine  has 
quaffed  ! '" 


190  POEMS    OF    NATURE 

THE    PINE-TREE 

[At  Wissahissick  Pond] 

0  pine-tree,  thou  art  Circe  of  the  wood ! 

My  path  thou  hast  entangled  and  betrayed  ! 
I  saw  thee,  and  thy  smile  betokened  aid,  — 
Thy  balm  seemed  greater  than  all  earthly  good. 
Alas  !  once  lured  beneath  thy  fragrant  hood, 
Thy  ruthless  needles  through  my  bosom  played. 
Thy  base  enchantment  now  is  open  laid, 
But  I  am  chained  beyond  all  will  and  should. 

1  pray  thee,  pine-tree,  loose  thy  fragrant  trap  ! 

At  home  my  loved-ones  for  my  coming  stay, 
Unwitting  of  thy  necromantic  art.   .  .  . 
Ah  !  limbs  at  last  have  power  thy  charm  to  snap  ! 
But  as  my  body  drags  itself  away, 
Thou,  sorceress  still,  dost  snatch  and  keep  my 
heart  ! 


BLUE    HILL    SONNETS  191 


TO    A    HEMLOCK    ON    CHICKA- 
TAWBUT 

Again  I  flee  the  city's  arid  stress 

To  greet  thee,  forest  brother  dear  and  tried  ! 
Recumbent  in  the  heaven  thy  arms  provide 
I  thrill  with  ecstasy  at  thy  caress. 

Against  thy  sun-warm  sides  my  cheek  I  press, 
And  know  thee  still  my  kin,  as  when  in  pride 
Our  far-off  ancestors  towered  side  by  side.  — 
Thou  still  art  tree !  I  human  more  or  less. 

When  I  have  solved  the  secret  of  this  flesh, 
My  flame-freed  ashes  I  in  love  decree 
Where  some  near  sapling's  roots  may  pierce  my 
clay. 

I  then  shall  flourish  by  thy  side  afresh, 
Once  more  upon  the  earth  a  glorious  tree, 
While  raptured  others  in  my  shade  shall  stray ! 


192  POEMS    OF    NATURE 


DECEMBER    HILLTOPS 

The  snow  up-piled  holds  all  the  hills  in  calm. 

Their  heights  and  hollows  greet  untracked  the  eye 
Of  such  rare  voyagers  as  speed  the  sky 
Belated  from  the  pinelands  to  the  palm. 

And  yet,  O  hills,  to-day  I  sang  your  psalm 

Perched  high  on  Hancock's  summit,  though  my  cry 
Made  music  for  no  eager  passer-by 
Who  craved  as  I  your  healing  piny  balm. 

No  less  speak  well  the  bards  and  seers  who  say 
That  to  himself  the  singer's  song  returns, 
Though  other  ear  may  hear  not  or  may  scorn ; 

Eor,  toiling  up  your  heights,  the  drift -filled  way 
And  lofty  view  became  as  fire  that  burns  — 
My  song  a  chant  at  Heaven's  high  gate  at  morn. 


POEMS    OF   THE    IMMORTAL    HOPE 

7.     MISCELLANEOUS 


THE  TRANSCENDENT   POSSIBILITY 

Amid  a  treeless  prairie  vast 

A  horseman  stayed  at  set  of  sun  : 
With  eyes  far  strained  o'er  shadows  dun 

He  swept  the  waste  his  steed  had  passed, 

And  onward,  o'er  the  path  to  be, 
And  there  and  here,  on  every  side. 
But  naught  in  Nature's  round  replied  ; 

His  gaze  met  blank  obscurity. 

Yet,  lo !  the  man  was  Nature's  child ! 
He  trusted  Her  who  gave  him  birth  : 
He  laid  him  on  the  flower-spread  earth, 

Amid  the  grewsome  vastness  wild. 

He  knew  not  he  should  wake  again  : 
To  wake  or  sleep  he  knew  was  good. 


193 


194      POEMS   OF  THE   IMMORTAL   HOPE 

In  love  with  air  and  sea  and  wood 
His  eyes  he  shut  with  sweet  Amen. 

His  arm  for  pillow  —  this  was  all ; 
Uncovered  lay  he  on  earth's  breast : 
But  rested  he  with  gracious  rest, 

And  o'er  him  gleamed  the  star-set  wall. 


THE    KISS    OF    DEATH 

My  little  child  lay  moaning  as  she  slept. 
What  dream  of  evil  through  her  slumbers  crept 
I  knew  not  —  but  her  forehead  I  caressed, 
And  to  her  trembling  lips  my  own  I  pressed. 
Smiling,  she  woke.     Her  grief  had  taken  wing. 
The  kiss  had  power  to  make  her  sorrow  sing. 

Is  here  a  parable  ?     Is  life  a  dream  ? 
Doth  all  our  anguish  not  exist,  but  seem  ? 
Daily  —  not  sleeping,  but  awake  —  we  moan  ! 
Yes  !  but  the  guest-room  —  it  is  Nature's  own  ; 
And  may  it  be  that  she,  when  ends  our  breath, 
Wakes  us  to  Peace  with  that  sweet  kiss  of  Death  ? 


MISCELLANEOUS  195 


THE    LOVED    AND    GONE 

Glad  thought  we  give,  proved  true  by  tears, 

To  those,  the  loved  and  gone, 
Who  at  our  side  in  other  years 

Inspired  and  helped  us  on. 
Their  presence  lingers  with  us  still, 

As  stars  amid  the  night, 
The  while  they  roam  the  dreamland  hill 

Beyond  our  earthly  sight. 

Oh,  more  than  these  who  greet  our  eyes 

Are  ye  with  silent  feet ! 
And  gratefully  we  recognize 

Your  benediction  sweet. 
We  may  not  whisper  loud  each  name,  — 

Too  sacred  is  our  thought ; 
But  humbly  take,  of  praise  or  blame, 

The  good  ye  to  us  brought. 

Be  near  us  still  to  aid  and  bless, 

Ye  friends  of  other  days  ! 
Soul  yet  doth  feel  your  fond  caress, 

Your  olden  likeness  raise. 
Thus  heart  doth  still  respond  to  heart, 

And  ye,  though  gone  from  sight, 
Are  never  dead,  but  still  are  part 

Of  all  our  love  and  light. 


196      POEMS   OF  THE   IMMORTAL   HOPE 


WHO    KNOWS? 

What  sailor  knows,  beneath  the  wave  he  lies  on, 

The  secrets  of  the  sea  ? 
Who  fathoms  Time  beyond  the  dim  horizon 

Which  bounds  Eternity  ? 

Who  knows  the  endless  deeps  of  skyey  spaces  ? 

The  course  the  comets  run  ? 
Who  knows  what  light  illuminates  men's  faces 

Beyond  the  moon  and  sun  ? 

As  children  dream,  so  men  have  gazed  in  vision 

And  seen  a  city  blest. 
If  such  there  be,  what  insight,  grace,  decision 

May  glorify  its  rest ! 

We  wonder  daily  what  they  may  be  doing 

In  that  fair  realm  afar  : 
Nor  deem  we  that  their  steps  are  but  pursuing 

The  space  from  star  to  star. 

Love,  labor,  progress  !  —  this  the  constant  story 

Ascending  Nature  speaks ; 
Love,  labor,  progress  !  —  this  were  highest  glory 

Of  beatific  weeks. 


MISCELLANEOUS  197 

"  There  will  be  Light  !  "     The  Voice  is  Voice 
Eternal, 

And  still  the  Light  will  be. 
New  stars,  new  suns,  new  satellites  supernal 

Blaze  forth  continually. 

Whose  hands,  it  may  be,  clothe  the  high  Sierras 

Of  those  new  worlds  with  white  ? 
Whose  kindly  fingers  dissipate  the  terrors 

Of  their  Antarctic  night  ? 

Invention  fails  ;  imagination  falters  ; 

We  may  not  read  the  sky  : 
But  this  we  know  :  If  there  are  heavenly  altars, 

Affection  stands  thereby  ! 

If  thought  and  will  go  on  to  larger  being, 

And  do  not  stop  with  death, 
Then,  surely,  weak  is  all  our  earthly  seeing, 

To  that  diviner  breath. 

We  still  may  hope  —  still  magnify  our  dreaming  — 

Nor  fear  the  Future  blank  ; 
If  Nature's  law  is  steadfast,  and  not  seeming, 

Life  rises  rank  on  rank. 

And  if  those  souls  still  are,  who  bore  our  sorrows, 
Their  fondness  still  must  glow, 


198      POEMS   OF  THE   IMMORTAL   HOPE 

The  same  devotion  fill  their  fine  to-morrows 
That  cherished  us  below. 

They  love  us  still !  the  beautiful  and  tender, 

Who  early,  one  by  one, 
Have  fled  earth's  darkness  for  supernal  splendor, 

Earth's  shadows  for  the  sun  ! 

O  Angel-Sisters  !  have  us  in  your  keeping ! 

We  cannot  dream  you  dead ! 
We  feel  our  hearts  might  hear,  were  they  not 
sleeping, 

Your  pinions  overhead ! 

O  Angel-Mothers  !  beautiful  as  Morning, 

And  brighter  than  the  Day ! 
Our  earthly  doubts  with  heavenly  grace  adorning, 

Ye  steal  our  hearts  away  ! 


MISCELLANEOUS  199 


THE    PASSING 

How  came  these  words  I  may  not  note. 

I  walked  beneath  the  tranquil  stars  ; 

A  Voice  >  as  from  their  golden  bars, 
Said  "  Write  /  "  to  me :  I  therefore  wrote. 

Ev'n  yet  I  feel  the  tremulous  thrill ! 

I  tread  again  the  pine-clad  hill. 


A  mystery  ?  —  true  ;  yet  I  fear  not  to  go. 
Nothing  harsh  can  be.     Indeed,  when  I  know 

We  walk  not  alone ;  that  within  us  and  out 
Throbs  ever  the  Might  that  engirds  us  about ; 

That  the  Power  which  developed  us  reigns  through  all, 
A  limitless  Sea  —  not  a  vertical  Wall ; 

When  I  learn  how  the  forces  of  death  and  life 
I  ntercircle  forever,  yet  never  at  strife  ; 

When  I  know  that  the  order  and  beauty  around 
With  the  life  of  the  All-Life  ever  abound  ; 

That  every  bird  on  every  tree 

Is  thrilled  a-through  with  God's  own  glee  ; 


200      POEMS   OF  THE   IMMORTAL   HOPE 

That  every  gleam  from  human  eye 

Is  a  gleam  of  the  All-Soul's  Mystery,  — 

Eain  would  I  leave  this  house  of  clay, 
To  travel  with  God  on  his  endless  way ; 

To  whirl  with  the  atom  and  dance  with  the  light, 
Or  glow  in  a  star  to  illumine  earth's  night. 

Things  fail  not.     Though  earth-life  has  passage  like 

dreams 
The  Order  Eternal  still  pulses  and  streams. 

We  know  not  "  soul  "  passes  !     We  only  can  know 
That  pass  if  it  must,  't  is  to  else  it  will  go. 

It  cannot  be  lost :  it  is  bound  up  with  All ; 
And,  while  anything  lasts,  shall  the  Soul  of  Things 
fall  ? 

Come,  Death !     You  for  him  lack  all  terrors  and 

pains 
Who  deems,  though  he  vanish,  he  deathless  yet 

reigns. 


MISCELLANEOUS  201 


GONE 

From  my  sleep  I  start,  and  gaze  without. 
What  is  this  load  —  this  load  of  doubt  — 
This  weight  that  presses  so  hard  and  deep 
Upon  my  heart  that  I  cannot  sleep  ? 
That  presses  so  hard  —  with  such  a  heat  — 
That  my  burning  heart  will  scarcely  beat  ? 

Sunk  is  the  star  that  beckoned  me  on ! 

She  whom  I  loved  is  gone,  is  gone ! 

I  gaze  from  my  window  —  I  gaze  on  high  : 

Coldly  the  moon  slants  down  the  sky  — 

Cold  as  the  cold  and  icy  weight 

That  lies  in  the  Valley  Desolate  — 

That  lies  in  the  valley  of  death  and  gloom 

Where  earth  for  its  beautiful  bride  made  room. 

Sunk  is  the  star  that  beckoned  me  on  ! 

She  whom  I  loved  is  gone,  is  gone. 

Faint  on  my  bed  falls  the  light  of  stars  : 
Red  at  the  door  of  his  tent  stands  Mars  — 
Red  as  the  lurid  light  that  throws 
Vesuvius'  shade  on  Italian  snows. 
Faintly  it  falls  on  her  lowly  mound, 
And  reddens  the  landscape  all  around. 

Sunk  is  the  star  that  beckoned  me  on  ! 

She  whom  I  loved  is  gone,  is  gone ! 


202      POEMS   OF  THE   IMMORTAL   HOPE 

Oh,  what  to  my  heart  remains  of  good !  .  .  . 
I  know  that  when  last  by  her  side  I  stood, 
She  pointed  her  finger  —  she  pointed  high  : 
"  I  die,"  she  whispered,  "  yet  shall  not  die  !  " 
That  finger  uplifted  I  still  can  see  ; 
And  it  beckons,  eternally  beckons  to  me. 

She  whom  I  loved  —  ah  no  !  not  gone  ! 

The  star  that  once  beckoned  still  beckons 
me  on ! 


POEMS    OF   THE    IMMORTAL    HOPE 

II.     SONNETS 


AT    THE    TURN   OF    THE    ROAD 

When  comes  at  last  my  destined  hour  to  die ; 
When  here  entranced  I  may  no  longer  stay 
To  mingle  in  the  wonders  of  the  day  - 
To  wander  hill  and  sea  and  watch  the  sky  — 

I  know  my  dust  will  most  serenely  lie  : 
For  confidence  is  mine  in  Nature's  way ; 
I  know  her  summons  never  can  betray ; 
Her  magic  touch  holds  naught  to  terrify. 

If  it  were  good  to  come,  to  learn  of  life, 
No  less  it  must  be  good  to  go,  to  learn 
What  strength  and  mystery  reside  in  death. 

I  here  have  known  the  full  of  joy  and  strife, 

And  smiled  throughout ;  and  at  the  highway's  turn 
No  whit  less  royally  I  yield  my  breath. 


203 


204      POEMS   OF  THE   IMMORTAL   HOPE 


BY   THE    DARK- BRIGHT    RIVER 

This  is  the  dark-bright  river,  at  whose  side 
I  stand  in  wonder  while  its  waters  moan, 
Seeming  to  hear  a  music  all  my  own 
In  the  calm  rote  with  which  its  currents  glide. 

I  stoop  and  dip  my  hand  within  its  tide, 

Perchance  to  still  the  human  doubt  and  groan 
Which  round  me  rise  from  those  who  dread  its  tone, 
And  prove  it  friend,  not  enemy,  when  tried. 

These  sounds  familiar  which  I  seem  to  hear  — 
These  harmonies  of  constant  birth  and  death  — 
Are  but  the  World-Soul's  alternating  play. 

As  harmless  as  the  sunset  is  this  sheer 

Slow  welling  of  the  waters,  and  the  breath 
Already  circles  of  a  breaking  day. 


EASTWARD    WINDOWS 

No  more  I  see  them  at  the  accustomed  pane,  - 
Two  glowing  faces,  fair  and  full  of  glee, 
That  always  smiled  and  signaled  friendlily 
As  I  went  daily  down  the  morning  lane. 

Each  night  when  I  returned,  I  looked  in  vain ; 
The  sash  was  dark,  nor  could  I  ever  see 
Or  boy  or  girl  to  wave  or  welcome  me  : 
Yet  with  the  morrow  they  were  there  again  ! 


SONNETS  205 

The  morning  now  is  but  another  night  : 

But  all  the  lane  now  rings  with  songs  not  sad, 
Down  flung  from  skies  with  this  new  bliss  increased  ; 

And  oft  I  think,  since  they  have  taken  flight, 
Of  two  bright  morning  faces  making  glad 
Some  casement  fronting  the  Eternal  East. 


KNOWN    OF    OLD 

Where  walks  he  —  my  companion1  known  of  old, 
Star-bright,  with  whom  I  wandered  arm  in  arm  ? 
Each  shielded  each  from  the  approach  of  harm, 
Each  counseled  each  with  loving  wisdom  bold. 

He  vanished,  and  the  summer  path  grew  cold. 
For  him  nor  me  had  life  or  death  alarm  ; 
No  less,  on  hill  and  by  the  river  farm 
I  walk  alone,  while  he  the  Way  of  Gold. 

Where  now  he  treads,  what  sunrise-glories  burn  ?  — 
I  dream  in  vain  his  pathway  through  the  blue, 
Yet  feel  't  is  on  and  on,  through  endless  mile. 

And  doth  he  wait  for  me  at  some  fair  turn, 
With  eager  eye  expecting  me  in  view  ? 
Be  mine  to  make  the  meeting  worth  the  while ! 


1  Edward  Foster  Temple  (1854-1899) ;  Tufts,  '81. 

\ 


206      POEMS   OF  THE   IMMORTAL   HOPE 


THE    VANISHED 

The  moon's  bright  sickle  shines  above  the  larch, 
A  golden  arc  on  shield  of  silvery  blue. 
Eastward  the  dawn's  white  splendor,  bursting 

through, 
Strives  swiftly  yonder  westering  stars  to  parch. 

But  ah  !  for  us  alone  Day's  lustrous  arch, 
Around  them  quivering,  outshines  their  hue  : 
Glad  eyes  far  distant,  hailing  Night  anew, 
See  them  just  mounting  for  their  heavenly  march ! 

O  radiant  loves  and  powers,  and  all  fine  graces 
Which  daily,  human  shaped,  around  us  sink, 
Far  fleeing  from  our  strained  and  questioning  gaze  ! 

Somewhere,  it  may  be,  gleam  your  shining  faces 
Climbing  to  sight  above  Oblivion's  brink, 
Somewhere  anew  your  healing  splendors  blaze. 


ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

/.     THE  BELLS  OF  COMO 


THE    BELLS   OF    COMO 

[  Read  to  the  Zetagathean  Society1  of  Tufts  College  Theological 
School,  at  its  seventh  public  literary  anniversary,  May  26,  1881] 

In  Italy  beyond  the  sea  — 
Dim,  mediaeval  Italy  — 
When  she  whose  ancient  power  and  pride 
Had  been  for  centuries  thrown  aside 
Was  slowly  waking  from  her  sleep, 
And  with  the  inspiration  deep 
And  ardor  of  a  second  birth, 
Among  the  nations  of  the  earth 
Was  striving  for  a  nobler  place  ;  — 
When  all  the  Caesar-line  was  dust, 
And  nothing  but  decay  and  rust 
Remained  of  the  Imperial  race ; 
And  a  new  line  of  kings  had  come, 
Immortal  throughout  Christendom,  — 
Dante  and  Michaelangelo 
And  Petrarch  and  Boccaccio  ;  — 
When  she,  so  long  the  nations'  scoff, 

1  Zetagathean  Society  —  The  Society  Seeking  Good. 
207 


208  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

Had  risen  and  flung  her  languor  off, 
And,  waking,  had  disclosed  her  skill 
In  marble,  and  her  power  to  thrill 
And  captivate  with  harmony 
A  waiting,  rapt  humanity  ;  — 
In  Italy  beyond  the  sea, 
Dim,  early  modern  Italy, 
Was  born  one  day  a  little  child,  — 
A  little  weakling !  as  if  he, 
For  whom  was  meant  a  destiny 
Amazing,  luring,  mocking,  wild, 
Blissful  at  times,  at  times  severe,  — 
Humble,  exalted,  mild,  austere,— 
Had  been  by  Nature  sent  to  be 
Even  in  birth  an  epitome 
Of  all  the  dread,  magnificent, 
Vain-glorious  accomplishment 
Of  his  own  native  monarchy. 

He  was  a  marvel  of  a  child, 
His  mother  thought  —  the  neighbors  knew  ; 
For  often,  as  he  lay,  he  smiled ; 
And  closing  his  clear  eyes  of  blue, 
Would  bend  his  ear  as  if  he  caught 
Some  echo  of  angelic  thought, 
The  murmur  of  rhythmic  melody, 
A  strain  of  heavenly  harmony. 

When  out  of  babyhood  he  passed, 
And  grew  in  stature,  and  at  last 


THE    BELLS    OF    COMO  209 

Had  come  to  boyhood,  all  his  art, 
Untried,  imperfect,  yet  in  part 
Revealing  what  was  in  his  heart, 
Was  raptly  exercised  to  bring 
From  brass,  from  iron,  from  everything 
That  answered  with  melodious  ring 
When  he  should  touch  it,  such  a  tone 
As  always,  when  he  was  alone, 
Seemed  ringing  in  the  air  around  — 
The  song  still  present,  and  the  sound, 
Which  once,  when  he  a  baby  lay, 
The  angels  sang  to  him  each  day. 
And  as  he  labored  still,  apart, 
And  leaned  to  listen,  —  and  on  wings 
Of  eager  wishes  would  ascend 
Where  yonder  anthems  seemed  to  blend, 
Echoing  without  hush  or  end,  — 
His  mother  wondered  at  these  things 
And  pondered  them  within  her  heart. 
"  What  is  it,  Michael  ? "  she  one  day 
Entreated.     "  Tell  me  your  desire  ! 
Your  eyes  are  radiant  with  a  fire 
Like  that  on  Como  when  the  sun 
Is  setting  and  the  day  is  done. 
What  is  it !     Tell  it  me,  I  pray  !  " 
But  Michael  only  turned  away. 
He  had  no  words,  no  heart,  to  say, 
Unto  his  mother  even,  as  yet, 
The  longing  that  was  in  his  soul, 
The  wish  not  yet  in  his  control. 


210  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

But  as  he  turned,  his  eyes  were  wet ! 
For  even  then  there  seemed  to  rise 
The  ever-swelling  harmony, 
The  far-off  angel  melody, 
Filling  the  blue,  ethereal  skies 
With  sweetest  notes,  as  if  to  wound 
His  spirit  with  ideal  sound. 

Swiftly  the  months  and  seasons  ran,  — 
The  youth  still  musing,  —  till  one  day, 
With  something  of  a  wild  dismay, 
He  woke  and  found  himself  a  man. 
His  thought,  his  toil,  his  frequent  prayer 
Had  brought  no  laurel  to  his  side ; 
His  soul  was  still  unsatisfied, 
His  chimes  were  still  but  in  the  air. 

His  chimes  !    For  it  was  Michael's  aim, 
In  manhood  as  in  youth  the  same,  — 
His  one  endeavor,  —  to  create 
So  marvelous  a  chime  of  bells, 
So  fair  and  void  of  parallels, 
That  they  the  soul  would  captivate, 
And  a  delighted  world  would  own 
The  music  of  their  silver  tone. 

"  Some  brotherhood  of  friars,"  said  he, 
"  Some  convent  here  in  Italy, 
Will  gladly  purchase  them  of  me. 
Through  all  the  world  their  fame  will  flow, 


THE    BELLS    OF    COMO  211 

And  pilgrims  here  will  come  and  go, 
And  honor  will  be  mine,  and  I 
Will  build  me  here  a  cottage  fair, 
And  on  the  morn  and  evening  air, 
Ascending  thither,  fleeing  there, 
Will  hear  their  music  till  I  die." 

No  jangling  chimes  like  those  that  rung 
Throughout  the  vale  where  Como  lay 
When  knelt  the  brotherhood  to  pray, 
Would  Michael  make !  but  on  the  day 
When  first  his  silvery  bells  were  swung, 
The  monks  and  friars  should  all  confess 
Not  sins  alone  and  idleness, 
But  that  their  prayers  before  had  known 
No  inspiration  like  the  tone 
That  echoed  from  the  belfry-throne 
Where  Michael's  chimes  rang  ecstasy. 
Surpassed  their  music  should  not  be 
By  any  flute  of  Arcady, 
Or  any  Hebrew  timbrel  old, 
Or  any  fabled  harp  of  gold, 
Or  any  violin  whose  fame 
Had  given  to  its  maker's  name 
A  lustre  more  than  marvelous  — 
A  halo  such  as  still  adheres 
To  him  who  wrote  upon  his  work 
A  name  which  through  the  deathless  years 
In  Music's  memory  will  lurk  — 
Antonio  Stradivarius. 


212  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

For  years,  in  secret,  Michael  strove, 
Untiring,  in  a  little  grove, 
Casting  and  tuning  still,  anew, 
The  metal  cups  from  which  he  drew 
His  hope  of  honor,  wealth,  and  fame. 
Alike  to  him  were  praise  and  blame, 
Coming  from  those  who  nothing  knew 
Of  his  high  vision  or  his  aim. 
Baffled  a  myriad  times,  again 
Untiringly  he  toiled,  and  when 
With  fleeing  years  his  faith  grew  dim, 
Again  the  angels  came  to  him. 

And  so  he  strove  —  nor  strove  in  vain 
For  in  the  end  his  patient  pain 
Accomplished  all  his  heart's  desire. 
He  labored  with  his  soul  on  fire ; 
And  catching  from  the  angels'  song 
The  melody  he  missed  so  long, 
He  tuned  in  ecstasy  sublime 
The  clanging  bells  to  perfect  chime, 
Until  they  rang  a  silver  tone, 
The  echo  of  the  angels'  own. 

A  week  now  hardly  passed  away 
When  on  the  artist,  pleased  and  proud, 
There  called,  with  offer  rich  and  rare, 
A  neighboring  friar  of  orders  gray ; 
Who,  having  blest  himself,  and  bowed, 
And  laid  his  hand  on  Michael's  hair, 


THE    BELLS    OF   COMO  213 

"I  come,  my  brother," — so  he  spake,— 

"  For  this  your  masterpiece  to  make 

With  earnest  prayer  the  prior's  request. 

We  offer  you  a  price,  and  take 

With  eager  thankfulness  confessed, 

And  many  a  benediction  rich, 

The  wondrous  metal  marvels  which, 

By  holy  Mother  Mary  blest, 

Aided  by  tireless  prayer  and  thought, 

The  cunning  of  your  hands  has  wrought." 

This  the  beginning  was.     The  rest, 
Just  as  he  long  had  dreamed  it  all, 
Now  came  to  Michael  with  such  speed 
That  in  a  month  his  cottage  wall 
Was  rising  on  the  margin  wide 
Of  beautiful  blue  Como's  side ; 
And  he  from  toil  and  want  was  freed. 

At  morning  now,  at  noon  and  night, 
In  rapture  at  his  cottage  door, 
Sheltered  from  summer  heat  and  light 
By  clustering  vine  and  sycamore, 
Entranced  did  Michael  daily  sit, 
Waiting  to  hear  the  joyful  peal, 
The  anthem  glad  and  glorious, 
Which  from  the  convent  on  the  height 
That  rose  his  homestead  opposite 
Announced  the  inmates'  hour  to  kneel  — 
Betrayed,  with  sudden  and  loud  appeal, 


214  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

Of  pious  intent  their  overplus, 
Or  sounded  the  holy  Angelus. 

Diviner  melodies  than  these 
No  chimes  in  all  the  world  could  ring. 
To  all  who  hearkened,  heavenly  ease, 
The  ecstasies  that  angels  know 
Where  founts  of  living  waters  flow, 
Their  notes  seraphic  seemed  to  bring. 
To  Michael's  thought  the  blest  retreat 
Of  Eden  had  no  music  higher. 
Not  fabled  Orpheus'  golden  lyre 
Had  ever  sounded  half  so  sweet. 
And  if  at  favored  Michael's  feet 
Nor  rock  nor  forest  bowed  and  sang, 
His  soul  was  often  glorified 
With  a  triumphant,  joyful  pride 
Which  Orpheus  never  knew  or  dreamed  : 
For  when  at  morn  or  eventide 
His  chimes  their  silver  music  rang, 
To  him,  ah  !  then  to  him  it  seemed 
The  waiting  angels  circled  low, 
And  caught  and  raised  the  echo  high, 
And  flung  it  over  hill  and  glen  ; 
And  when  the  anthem  ceased  to  flow, 
Upbore  it  with  them  to  the  sky 
And  closed  it  with  a  sweet  Amen. 

But  now  throughout  the  peaceful  vale, 
Along  the  placid  lakelet's  marge, 


THE    BELLS    OF    COMO  215 

The  storm  of  war,  its  iron  hail, 
The  beat  of  angry  foreign  flail, 
The  din  of  clashing  spear  and  targe, 
Came  suddenly  and  awfully. 

As  when  from  out  a  summer  sky, 
Where  flakes  of  fairest  amber  hue 
Against  a  ground  of  gold  and  blue 
All  day  have  floated  gorgeously, 
There  leaps  a  sudden  awful  flash, 
The  lightning's  angry  augury  ; 
And  with  a  quick,  tumultuous  crash 
The  thunder  follows,  and  the  pale 
Blue  zenith  thickens  with  the  charge 
Of  cloudy  cohorts  ;  and  the  large 
And  sturdy  oak  —  which  hitherto, 
Whatever  stormy  tempest  blew, 
Had  towered  unsmitten  —  when  the  hail 
And  whirlwind  and  the  furious  blow 
Have  ceased,  lies  shattered,  rootless,  low, 
All  lifeless  ;  —  so  throughout  the  vale 
Of  Como,  and  through  all  the  land, 
There  came  the  storm  of  war ;  and  so, 
When  turmoil  met  its  overthrow, 
And  the  red,  desolating  brand 
Had  fallen  from  the  invading  hand, 
And  Michael  again  reached  his  home 
From  fighting  in  the  ranks  of  Rome, 
No  stone  above  another  lay 
Where  he  in  love,  in  happier  day, 


216  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

Had  reared  his  modest  tower  and  dome. 
The  grove  where  he  for  years  had  toiled 
The  torch  had  ruthlessly  despoiled, 
And  more  calamitous  than  all, 
Gone  was  the  monkish  brotherhood  ! 
And  erst  where  cell  and  cloister  stood, 
And  prayer  re-echoed  wall  to  wall, 
Now  wrapped  in  winding-sheet  and  pall 
The  convent  in  a  ruined  heap 
Of  ashes  lay  upon  the  steep. 
And  Michael's  bells  !  his  masterpiece  ! 
His  peerless,  his  unrivaled  bells, 
Whose  chimes  were  never  more  to  cease ! 
The  mocking  mob  of  infidels 
Had  stolen  them  away,  and  left 
Their  maker  mournful  and  bereft. 
The  light  was  taken  from  his  eyes ; 
The  gate  was  shut  on  Paradise. 

"  Alas  !  "  he  murmured.    "  Woe  is  me  ! 
My  cup  for  all  futurity 
Is  filled  with  misery  to  the  brim  !  " 
What  now  indeed  remained  for  him  ! 
His  home,  his  family,  his  health 
For  labor,  and  his  little  wealth, 
These  all  were  gone  !    And  even  the  sound 
That  once  had  echoed  in  the  air, 
Luring  him  upward  from  the  ground 
With  melody  beyond  compare  — 


THE    BELLS    OF    COMO  217 

Sounding  from  heavenly  citadels  : 
This  too  had  vanished  with  his  bells. 

Or  so  it  seemed  to  him  at  first ; 
For  afterwards,  as  he  one  day 
Was  kneeling  on  the  ground  to  pray — 
The  ruined  ground  where  he  of  yore 
Had  sat  beside  his  cottage  door,  — 
Upon  his  ear  a  sudden  burst 
Of  the  old  melody  on  high 
Rang  rapturously ;  and  from  the  sky 
A  voice  angelic,  clear  and  loud, 
Came  searchingly.    "  Why  here  delay  ? 
Up,  Michael !  up  !  "  it  seemed  to  say. 
"Why  linger  thus,  with  forehead  bowed 
And  footsteps  idle  ?     Follow  on  ! 
Somewhere  your  bells  their  joyful  tone 
Are  ringing  even  now  !     Be  gone  ! 
Seek  them  afar,  and  claim  your  own  ! " 

So  Michael  rose,  nor  stayed  an  hour. 
New  hope  was  in  his  heart ;  and  power 
To  journey,  did  the  need  require, 
From  the  blue  skies  and  silver  seas 
Of  his  own  Temperate  Italy, 
To  where  the  Tropic's  flaming  sky 
Unrolled  its  canopy  of  fire, 
Or  where  the  desolate  Arctic  breeze 
Blew  cold  above  the  mountains  drear 
Of  the  waste  northern  hemisphere. 


218  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

So  seized  he  in  that  selfsame  day 
His  cloak  and  staff  and  shallow  purse, 
Intent  in  many  a  city  way, 
And  many  a  hamlet,  to  rehearse 
The  history  of  his  stolen  bells, 
The  fair  and  void  of  parallels  ! 

Steadfast  he  wandered  here  and  there, 
Seeking  his  darlings  everywhere. 
And  not  alone  in  Italy, 
Beneath  his  native  skies  of  blue, 
But  where  the  Jura  mountains  threw 
Their  shadow  on  Geneva's  sea. 
Not  up  and  down  the  Alps  alone, 
And  through  and  through  the  Apennine, 
But  where  the  Danube  and  the  Rhine 
Upreared  their  convent-towers  of  stone. 
Who  knew  but  here,  perchance,  his  bells 
Rang  out  in  grief  their  stolen  tone ! 
"Who  knows,"  he  cried,  "  but  here  there  dwells 
A  respite  for  my  grief  and  pain, 
And  here  my  ears,  so  weary  grown, 
Shall  ring  with  harmony  again  !  " 
But  when  he  heard  the  clang  and  roar 
That  echoed  up  and  down  the  slopes, 
Sounding  from  many  a  convent-shrine, 
Vanished  again  were  all  his  hopes. 
"  Alack  !  "  he  sighed,  "they  are  not  mine  !  " 
His  bells  revealed  their  secret  lore 
In  heavenly  harmony  !  —  but  these, 


THE    BELLS    OF   COMO  219 

What  ear  could  deem  their  notes  divine, 
Or  call  their  anthems  melodies ! 

The  seasons  went  and  came ;  and  went 
And  came  again  :  and  still  his  way 
Across  and  through  the  continent, 
Untiringly,  from  day  to  day, 
Michael  pursued,  through  cold  and  heat. 
Through  ten,  through  twenty  years,  his  feet 
Onward  unceasingly  were  bent. 
Far  to  the  East  his  steps  were  turned  — 
To  where  on  priest-fed  altars  burned 
Unfading  fire  ;  and  to  the  shrine 
Of  Bethlehem  in  Palestine. 
Even  through  India  and  Cathay 
His  search  unfaltering  he  made. 
No  distance  could  his  zeal  evade. 
His  chimes  seemed  never  far  away  : 
On  mountain,  o'er  the  desert  sand, 
On  lake,  on  river,  on  the  land, 
Ever  they  sounded  loud  and  clear, 
Ringing  triumphant  in  his  ear. 
His  form  was  bent,  his  beard  was  gray, 
His  wrinkled  face  was  bronzed  and  burned ; 
But  as  a  traveler  in  the  night, 
Groping,  and  waiting  for  the  light, 
Yet  walking  still,  so  Michael  turned, 
And  waited  for  the  coming  day. 

It  was  in  Greece  at  last  that  news 
Was  given  the  wanderer  of  his  bells ; 


220  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

Amid  the  towers  and  citadels 
Of  Athens,  where,  to  pray  and  muse, 
And  stray  an  hour,  and  lean  upon 
The  ruins  of  the  Parthenon, 
Had  come  at  length  his  weary  feet. 
A  traveler  here  he  met,  replete 
With  stories  wonderful,  who  said : 
"  Somewhere  in  yonder  Western  seas 
I  heard  their  marvelous  melodies  !  " 
But  where,  he  could  not  say ;  for  dead 
Now  in  his  memory  the  ground 
Where  he  had  listened  to  their  sound. 

But  Michael  had  at  least  a  clue ; 
And  hurrying  to  Italy 
His  way  he  purposed  to  pursue 
Along  the  borders  of  the  sea 
Through  all  the  countries  of  the  West, 
And  there,  God  willing,  end  his  quest. 

In  a  few  days  his  feet  had  come 
To  buried  Herculaneum  ; 
And  when  he  saw  the  mountain's  brim 
Piercing  the  cloudrack  over  him  — 
Gazing  as  with  defiant  air 
Upon  the  buried  cities  there  — 
On  Michael's  burning  heart  the  tears 
Fell  thick  and  fast  for  wasted  years ; 
As  on  Vesuvius'  burning  height 
The  rain  fell  hissing  in  the  night. 


THE    BELLS    OF   COMO  221 

Then  north,  to  the  unblest  estate 
Where  ancient  Rome  sat  desolate  — 
Discrowned,  like  Lear,  by  daughters  she 
Had  pampered  in  prosperity. 
And  there,  in  Rome,  at  last !  he  heard 
The  story  he  so  long  had  sought. 
He  met  a  mariner,  who  brought 
The  happy,  long-expected  word, 
That  yonder,  on  the  sun-lit  shore 
Of  Erin  there  were  silver  bells, 
So  fair  and  void  of  parallels 
That  he  who  heard  would  fain  implore 
That  he  might  hear  them  evermore. 

A  month  went  by.     A  little  bark 
Was  moored  on  Shannon's  placid  tide. 
A  boat  was  pushing  from  her  side ; 
And  o'er  the  silver  wave  the  dark 
Fantastic  turret  of  Saint  Mary's  lay, 
Far  shadowed  by  the  dropping  day. 

Kneeling  within  the  little  boat, 
His  streaming  eyes  upon  the  tower, 
Was  Michael.     Happy,  happy  hour  ! 
"O  bells  !  "  he  cried,  "one  marvelous  note ! 
Long  have  I  sought  your  sacred  glee ! 
Ring  out !  ring  out,  and  welcome  me  ! 
Ring,  at  the  setting  of  the  sun  : 
Ring  !  and  my  pilgrimage  is  done  I  " 


222  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

The  answer  came.     A  silvery  shower 
Burst  from  the  old  cathedral  tower. 
A  smile  illumed  the  wanderer's  face  : 
His  heart  sang  inward  jubilee. 
The  bells  were  his  !  and  time  nor  place 
Had  marred  or  dulled  their  melody. 

But  Michael !  —  when  the  rowers  sought 
To  take  in  theirs  his  withered  hand, 
And  rouse  him,  as  they  neared  the  land, 
They  did  his  guardian  angels  wrong. 
His  soul  the  seraph-hosts  had  caught, 
And  borne  it  upward  with  the  song. 
The  melody  was  Michael's  knell : 
The  anthem  was  his  passing-bell. 


My  comrades  !  at  whose  prized  command 
I  come  again  a  little  while 
To  greet  you,  and  to  take  your  hand, 
And  meet  your  well  remembered  smile, 
And  read  to  you,  in  simple  phrase, 
In  memory  of  other  days, 
This  verse  of  mine  !  —  your  kindly  word 
Of  welcoming  I  gladly  heard  ; 
And  pondering  what  land,  what  date, 
What  freak  of  Fortune  or  of  Fate, 


THE    BELLS    OF   COMO  223 

What  winter  gloom  or  summer  light 
I  best  might  open  to  your  sight, 
I  chose  this  Legend  Beautiful, 
Of  patience  under  painful  rule, 
Of  high  response  to  inward  gleam, 
Of  consecration  to  a  dream, 
Of  eager  wandering  to  find 
A  Paradise  for  heart  and  mind ! 

To  you  the  legend  I  relate, 
To  you  the  tale  I  dedicate. 

You  are  the  Seekers  after  Good  ! £ 
You  stand  where  Greathearts  oft  have  stood  ! 
Your  lives  you  dedicate  in  youth 
To  painful  —  joyful  —  endless  search, 
And  in  the  portals  of  the  Church 
Seek  Knowledge  and  Eternal  Truth  ! 
To-day,  of  Truth  perchance  the  prize 
You  think  you  hold  before  your  eyes. 
Through  care,  and  toil,  and  anxious  thought, 
The  melody  you  long  have  sought 
Seems  ringing  in  the  sun-lit  air ; 
And  you  are  confident,  forsooth, 
And  "  Thus  and  so,"  you  say,  "  is  Truth  !  " 

What  shall  I  say  to  you  ?  —  Beware  ? 
Clasp  not  with  fervor  to  your  soul 

1  See  note,  page  207. 


224  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

A  dream  so  flattering,  so  unreal  ? 

I  would  not  mock  your  glad  appeal ! 

Far  rather  would  my  hand  unroll, 

If  such  were  possible,  a  scroll 

On  which  were  written,  "  Yea  !  your  search 

Has  led  you  to  the  one  true  Church  ! 

Your  dream  — it  is  indeed  The  Truth, 

And  you  are  conquerors  ev'n  in  youth  !  " 

Alas !  we  know  not  where  it  lies. 
It  is  not  ours  with  seraph's  eyes 
To  pierce  to  hidden  destinies  ! 
We  seek,  we  knock,  we  vainly  call, 
Like  Pilate  in  the  council-hall ; 
And  still  the  Christ  no  answer  makes  — 
And  still  the  rabble  comes  and  takes 
And  carries  him  without  the  wall. 

As  "  Truth  "  we  rear  to-day  our  schemes  ; 
To-morrow  shows  us  they  are  dreams. 
The  world's  advancing  Wisdom  creeps 
On  strongholds  where  Tradition  sleeps  ; 
And  walls  where  Worship  thought  to  rest 
Are  rent  in  twain  in  Reason's  quest. 
The  chimes  religious  awe  has  reared, 
To  alien  isles  have  disappeared ; 
And  every  solace  of  the  heart 
At  times  seems  summoned  to  depart. 


THE    BELLS    OF   COMO  225 

What  then  !     Shall  we  forbear  our  toil  ? 
Blow  out  our  lamp  ?  neglect  the  oil  ? 
Repose  on  some  Calypso  beach, 
Or  to  the  hall  of  Circe  flee  ? 

Good  lies  not  far  beyond  our  reach  ! 
We  daily  hear  its  melody  ; 
It  echoes  round  us,  as  we  go 
Our  wondrous  pilgrimage  ;  and  though 
Philosophy's  high  soarings  fail, 
And  Reason's  humbler  gropings  pale, 
Our  souls  are  born  anew  each  day, 
Still  dreaming  that  beyond  the  gray 
And  distant  bound  of  changing  skies, 
Our  journey's  object  waiting  lies  ! 
We  feel  a  meaning  in  the  hope 
That  lures  us  up  the  spirit's  slope ! 
Somewhere  our  chimes  are  ringing  still, 
Responsive  to  our  search  and  will ! 
Before  us  rise  the  Hills  of  Day 
And  call  us  to  pursue  our  way  ; 
Love's  loftier  ranges,  Wisdom's  seas, 
Forbid  our  souls  to  lie  at  ease. 
We  know  that  Love  is  Heaven's  breath  ; 
That  Hate  and  Wilfulness  are  death ; 
That  Aspiration  for  the  Right 
Rewards  the  eager  soul  with  light. 
So  still  we  follow  on  To  Know  ! 
And  though  indeed  no  Final  Word 


226  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

Is  ever  by  the  spirit  heard, 

Enough  is  ours  of  Being's  glow 

To  tinge  the  clouds  of  life  below 

With  a  serene,  refulgent  ray 

Betokening  a  Higher  Day. 

A  glimmer  of  the  truth  we  seek 

Life's  growing  revelations  speak, 

And  music  sweet  as  Michael's  bells 

Man's  coming  blessedness  foretells. 

Happy  if  even  as  we  die 

We  hear,  like  him,  its  harmony ! 


ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

II.   HEART  OF  YOUTH 


HEART    OF   YOUTH 

[1881] 

I 

A  noontide  sun,  in  early  summer-time ; 
Low,  billowy  summits,  in  their  verdant  prime, 
Bounding  a  valley  wide  and  fair  and  still : 
And  in  the  midst,  the  slopes  of  Walnut  Hill.1 

On  all  the  northern  hand,  —  far-reaching,  gray,  — 
The  heights  of  Winchester,  in  rude  array ; 
And  trending  east,  where  lakes  like  sapphires  burn, 
The  Fells  of  Middlesex,  embowered  in  fern. 

Still  east,  the  sea !  a  silvery  line  and  thin, 
Hedged  by  the  rocky  heights  of  distant  Lynn  ; 
And  circling  nearer  —  placid  as  the  dead  — 
Along  whose  banks  once  Paul  Revere  sped  — 
The  Mystic's  narrow  tide,  expanding  soon 
Into  a  crystal  mere,  a  broad  lagoon, 
Reflecting  far,  from  morn  till  evening  hour, 
Gray  Bunker's  lofty,  sun-illumined  tower. 

1  The  former  name  of  College  Hill  (Tufts  College). 
227 


228  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

Southward,  the  city  —  dreary  desert  vast !  .  .  . 
Haste  thee,  my  verse  !  beware  the  woe  !  fly  fast ! 
Far,  far  beyond,  see  Milton's  purple  hills, 
The  blue-domed  range  which  every  bosom  thrills ; 
And  nearer  —  where  the  marbles  hide  from  view 
The  ashes  of  a  Sumner  and  Ballou  — 
Fair  Auburn,  circled  by  a  hundred  farms, 
And  clasped  in  sluggish  Charles's  sinuous  arms. 

Westward,  the  fertile  fields  of  Alewife  Brook, 
Laughing  with  harvests  ripening  for  the  hook  — 
Flecked  by  the  shadows  of  vast  clouds  that  float 
Aimless  as  shipwrecked  sails  on  seas  remote  — 
Edged  by  low  mountains  shimmering  in  the  sun, 
The  emerald  Heights,  far-famed,  of  Arlington ; 
Enchanted  hills,  which,  when  the  day  is  past, 
Are  tipt  with  glory  such  as  Nebo  cast 
When  angels  hastened  o'er  its  darkening  crest 
Bearing  the  Hebrew  prophet  to  his  rest ! 

ii 

Northward  and  eastward  from  this  favored  scene, 
This  Walnut  Hill,  this  college-crowned  demesne,  — 
Beyond  the  river  flowing  at  its  feet, 
Beyond  the  stir  of  village  pier  and  street, 
There  winds  a  road  through  rarest  sylvan  ways, 
The  ever  new  delight  of  summer  days. 

Here  darkling  thickets,  densely  green,  abide, 
Hazel,  and  oak,  and  birch,  on  either  side,  — 
Where  the  brown  partridge  unseen  whirrs,  and  where 
Gray  squirrels  lurk,  and  rabbits  have  their  lair. 


HEART    OF    YOUTH  229 

Here  blooms  the  barberry,  in  yellow  sprays, 

Miles  long !  and  here,  through  all  the  summer  days, 

The  sweet  wild  rose  and  fragrant  wilding  phlox 

Vie  with  the  garden  pinks  and  hollyhocks 

Which  shall  be  crowned  the  fairer !     And  the  prize 

No  single  wanderer,  passing  with  pleased  eyes, 

Withholds  from  Nature's  wilding  ones,  here  strowed 

Luxuriantly. 

.   .  .  Along  this  sunny  road 
Two  friends  were  walking  at  the  noon  of  day ; 
And  both  were  thoughtful,  though  they  both  were  gay. 
They  both  were  thoughtful ;  but  the  summer  air, 
The  sunshine  through  the  branches  here  and  there, 
The  laughing  bobolink,  the  cawing  crow, 
The  blue  above,  the  emerald  below, 
Made  life  that  hour  so  beautiful  a  dream 
That  rustling  leaf  nor  onward  murmuring  stream 
Could  less  of  sorrow  feel,  or  wild  despair, 
Than  these  companions  idly  wandering  there. 

For  both  were  young !  and  in  the  soul  of  each 
Were  aspirations  deeper  than  all  speech  : 
Ambitions  for  the  honor  which  the  world 
Stands  ready  to  inscribe  on  flags  unfurled 
In  noble  causes  ;  —  aspirations,  too, 
That  honor  granted  should  be  honor  due. 

They  dreamed  of  sacred  fire  withheld  by  Gods  : 
They  knew  of  Caucasus,  and  of  the  odds 
Prometheus  wrestled  with,  and  all  his  pain  ; 
And  yet  they  dared  it  all,  and  more,  again  ; 


230  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

And  with  the  vultures'  whirr  still  sounding  nigh 
They  dared  to  rest  their  ladder  on  the  sky. 

Upon  the  shore  of  Time  they  would  not  sit. 
The  Ocean  was  before  !  and  they  were  knit 
Unto  a  firm  resolve,  by  faith  upheld 
To  walk  the  waters  !     If  they  boiled  and  welled, 
The  way  would  be  more  difficult ;  if  calm, 
The  port  were  sooner  reached  —  the  Isles  of  Palm. 
Nor  did  they  hesitate  to  point  their  feet 
To  where  life's  ocean  and  horizon  meet. 

They  knew — yet  were  not  daunted — wild  with  spray 
The  vengeful  tempest  would  assail  their  way. 
They  knew  men's  bones  lay  bleaching  on  the  sand ; 
They  saw  the  carcasses  tossed  high  on  land 
Of  earnest  voyagers  who  yesterday 
Had  left  the  beach  as  buoyantly  as  they. 
But  these  (they  said)  had  sailed  without  a  chart : 
Or  failed  to  use  it :  and  the  human  heart, 
By  impulse  ballasted,  to  escape  the  brine 
A  special  port  must  own,  and  chart  divine. 

in 

The  hemlock  crooned  for  them  its  friendly  strain ; 
And  now  they  turned  into  a  narrow  lane 
Half  hidden  in  the  leafy  underbrush  : 
A  fragrant  avenue,  whose  sacred  hush 
Was  broken  by  the  rumble  of  no  wheel, 
No  whirl  of  dust,  no  echo  but  the  peal 
Of  sporting  bobolinks  ;  and  where  the  moss 
A  soft  rich  tapestry  spread  wide  across  ; 


HEART   OF    YOUTH  231 

And  all  along,  as  far  as  eye  could  reach, 
The  birch  and  hazel  boughs  and  silver  beech 
Threw  grateful  shade. 

"This  winding  road,"  said  one, 
"Will  guide  us  to  the  summit ;  and  the  sun, 
Which  hitherto  hath  flamed  upon  our  way 
With  scorching  heat,  will  here  its  fury  stay, 
While  cooling  breezes  now  will  fan  our  cheek. 
The  way  is  sure :  I  heard  my  father  speak 
But  yesterday  of  climbing  this  same  path." 

The  other  lingered.     "  Greater  beauty  hath 
The  wilding  thicket  for  my  mood,"  said  he. 
A  dozen  rods  beyond  this  sumach-tree 
Sharply  the  rocky  cliff  begins  to  rise. 
Why  toil  we  on  !     '  Reward  of  high  emprise  ' 
Is  here  at  hand  !     Behold  !  the  forest  floor 
Is  thick  with  violets  !  and  here  a  door 
Between  the  maple-trunks  seems  opening  wide, 
Inviting  us  to  enter.     In  !  "  he  cried, 
And  caught  his  comrade's  arm,  and  sought 
To  lure  him. 

But  his  zeal  availed  him  naught. 

"  One  moment,  brother  mine  !  "  his  comrade  said. 
"  We  started  out  the  Overlook's  tall  head 
Intent  to  reach.     Shall  we  be  baffled  here 
By  violets  ?     And  yonder  buds,  I  fear, 
Are  not  the  violets  your  haste  has  thought. 
Those  purple  petals,  delicately  wrought, 
With  subtle  juices,  poisonous,  are  filled. 
The  deadly  nightshade,  if  your  eyes  were  skilled, 


232  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

You  would  declare  them  !     And  your  open  door 
Is  blocked  with  weed  and  briar.     The  forest  floor 
To  which  with  thoughtless  ardor  you  would  haste, 
Look  you,  is  marshy  ground  —  a  miry  waste." 

"  Enough  !  "  perversely  here  the  other  cried. 
"  Give  over  !     Climb  your  mimic  mountain-side  ! 
Keep  to  your  rugged  pathway  if  you  will : 
The  easiest  road  is  soonest  up  the  hill ! 
I  shall  stop  here  awhile,  among  the  flowers, 
And  rest  beneath  the  trees.     In  after  hours 
I  '11  join  you  on  the  hilltop's  lofty  height. 
I  know  not  how  I  shall  ascend,  but  night 
Will  not  have  fallen  ere  I  join  you.     Go  !  " 

He  waited  not  for  answer  :  but  the  low 
And  sympathetic  voice  which  oft  had  held 
Him  humbled  with  its  music,  rose  and  swelled, 
And  broke  upon  his  ear  in  sweetest  tone 
Of  friendship,  begging,  "  Venture  not  alone  !  " 
In  notes  of  warning,  crying,  "  Do  not  go ! " 

He  waited  not  for  answer :  but  the  low 
Wind  murmured  in  his  ear,  and  seemed  to  say : 
"  'T  were  better,  better,  thoughtless  youth,  to  stay  ! 
To  stay  were  better  !  "     And  as  on  he  passed, 
Still  heedless,  — with  a  deeper,  warning  blast, 
"  Regret  is  long,"  it  sighed,  "  and  short  the  day  !  "— 
It  shouted  !  and  the  woodland  echoed,  "  Stay  !  " 

He  waited  not  for  answer  :  but  a  brood 
Of  white-winged  doves  flew  over  where  he  stood, 
Their  whirring  pinions,  as  they  sped  their  way, 
Seeming  to  plead  in  chorus,  "  Stay,  oh  stay  !  " 


HEART   OF    YOUTH  233 

He  waited  not  for  answer :  in  he  strode, 
At  once  his  friend  forsaking  and  the  road. 
Mindless  of  all  —  of  pain  or  torn  attire  - 
He  scrambled  through  the  tangled  weed  and  briar. 
His  soul  was  innocent  of  thought  of  ill ; 
His  heart,  untried,  was  buoyant ;  and  his  will 
Was  steadfast  (so  he  thought)  to  do  the  right. 
What  matter  where  he  wandered,  if  the  night 
Should  not  have  fallen  ere  he  gained  the  peak ! 

But  surely,  so  it  seemed,  across  his  cheek, 
The  winds,  which  kissed  him  in  the  sun-lit  way 
Where  he  before  had  wandered  ;  which  in  play 
Had  sported  with  his  hair  and  fanned  his  brow, 
Were  blowing  searchingly  and  damply  now. 
And  when  he  looked,  and  saw  upon  his  hand 
The  stain  of  crimson  drops  —  a  purple  brand 
Where  briars  had  punctured  ;  when  he  felt  the  pain, 
At  first  forgot,  now  doubly  felt  again ; 
And  glancing  down  beheld  the  floss,  the  burrs 
Thick  fastened  on  him  —  shaken  from  the  furze : 
Backward  he  cast  a  lingering  glance,  and  stood 
As  one  irresolute.     The  ground  was  strewed 
With  stubble,  crumbling  stones,  with  last  year's  leaves, 
A  vision  desolate.     As  one  who  grieves 
For  pleasures  vanished,  and  would  fain  return, 
So  stood  he  now,  and  felt  his  pulses  burn 
With  shame  that  he  had  wandered  from  the  way. 
Again  he  heard  the  wind.     It  seemed  to  say, 
"  Return  !  return  !  you  have  not  wandered  far  !  " 
Above  his  head,  from  out  his  golden  car, 


234  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

Apollo,  smiling,  shone  with  quickening  beam. 

Back  wheeled  the  brood  of  irised  doves,  a-gleam 

In  every  pinion  with  a  golden  glow ; 

And  circling  in  the  air,  above,  below, 

"  You  have  not  wandered  far,"  they  seemed  to  cry,  — 

"  Return  !  return  !  "  —then  vanished  in  the  sky. 

Again  he  heard  a  voice  —  or  seemed  to  hear. 

Inward  Or  outward,  sounding  in  his  ear 

It  startled  him,  as  if  before  his  eye 

His  friend  deserted  had  come  suddenly. 

He  listened  —  turned  —  had  fled  the  dull  abode, 
And  in  a  moment  would  have  gained  the  road  — 
When  yonder  field  again  his  eye  besets, 
The  purple  field  —  to  him  still  violets  ! 

"  I  will  not  go,"  he  cried,  —  and  on  his  knees 
Down  flung  himself,  — "till  I  have  gathered  these  !  " 

A  stagnant  pool  was  there.      It  did  not  flow, 
But  moved  to  right  or  left  as  wind  might  blow ; 
And  on  its  surface  curling  leaves  careered 
And  severed  lily-pads.     Dim,  withered,  weird, 
A  ghostly  hemlock-tree  and  ghastly  larch 
Above  the  margin  reared  a  rugged  arch, 
Throwing  a  slanting  shadow  on  the  rank 
Wet  deadly  nightshade  growing  on  the  bank. 

And  here  the  seeker  after  purple  flowers 
Stooped  fondly  down  to  while  away  the  hours. 


O  hours  —  O  days  !    O  rapid  months  and  years  ! 
O  heights  ungained  !     O  unavailing  tears  ! 


ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

///.     MISCELLANEOUS 


DAY    UNTO    DAY 

Half  the  worth  of  man's  existence 

Is  in  life's  unlooked-for  gain. 
Stirs  the  blood  the  most  in  steering 

For  the  open  unknown  main. 
Not  to  solve  too  soon  all  knowledge 

Is  the  child's  protective  art ; 
To  attain  new  vision  daily 

Is  eternal  youth  of  heart. 
Oh  the  beauty  of  the  sunrise  ! 

All  my  being,  in  its  glow, 
Rises,  dances,  wonders,  worships ; 

Yet  to-morrow's  sunrise-show 
All  my  spirit  is  as  eager 

Till  to-morrow  to  forego. 

There  's  a  path  on  Grand  Monadnock 

I  have  left  all  unexplored. 
I  have  scaled  the  cliffs  around  it ; 

That  its  depths  with  bloom  are  stored 
I  am  certain  from  the  fragrance 

Rising  free  when  zephyrs  blow  ; 
235 


236  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

And  in  springtime,  up  its  arches, 

I  have  seen  its  maples  glow. 
But  as  yet  I  leave  its  secret 

Undiscovered  to  my  tread, 
Like  a  chapter  rare  and  golden 

In  a  volume  still  unread  ; 
For  I  know  when  once  I  probe  it 

All  its  mystery  will  have  fled. 

There  are  secret  paths  of  being 

On  the  spirit's  upward  way, 
Where,  however  much  the  marvel, 

I  still  hesitate  to  stray. 
Through  life's  daily  vista  gazing 

I  at  times  may  catch  a  gleam 
Of  a  more  than  earthly  splendor ;  - 

And  the  sound  as  of  a  stream 
Flowing  calmly,  grandly,  purely 

For  the  healing  of  my  pain 
May  at  intervals  float  downwards 

To  my  dust-encumbered  plain  ;  - 
But  to  solve  in  full  the  secret 

I  'm  not  certain  would  be  gain. 


MISCELLANEOUS  237 


WHEN    YOUNG    HEARTS    LOVE 

Bright  are  earth's  days,  and  glad  earth's  years, 

When  young  hearts  love  ! 
Many  are  joys,  and  few  are  fears, 

When  young  hearts  love  ! 
Nor  aught  the  wide  earth  round, 
Unto  its  farthest  bound, 
May  equal  the  intense 
Unswerving  vehemence 
Of  faith,  of  truth,  of  innocence,  of  tears, 
When  young  hearts  love  ! 

Glad  are  the  songs  the  angels  sing, 

In  realms  above  ! 
Merry  the  mock-bird's  caroling 

In  southern  grove  ! 
But  ne'er  may  seraph  chant 
The  Song  of  Covenant 

That  bindeth  twain  in  one, 
Or  bird  of  southern  sun 
Repeat  the  soul's  glad  triumphing, 
When  young  hearts  love  ! 


238  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


I    FEEL   THAT    I    KNOW    HER 

[1876] 

I  feel  that  I  know  her  —  we  smile  as  we  meet ; 
We  pass  every  day  in  the  very  same  street, 
She  hurrying  on  —  Heaven  only  knows  where, 
And  I  in  pursuit  of  ambitions  of  air. 

But  who  she  may  be,  or  the  place  of  her  home, 
Or  why  through  the  city  forced  daily  to  roam, 
Or  married  or  single,  a  maiden  or  mother, 
I  'm  sure  I  don't  know,  any  more  than  another. 

Her  eyes  are  a  tender  and  beautiful  blue ; 

Her  hair  is  the  glossiest,  goldenest  hue ; 

Her  cheeks  are  as  red  as  the  roses  in  blow,  — 

And  her  heart  is  the  garden,  I  feel,  where  they  grow. 

We  never  have  spoken  —  we  smile  and  go  by ; 
No  greeting  we  utter,  except  with  the  eye : 
Thank  God  she  is  modest,  retiring,  and  true !  — 
And  I  am  as  modest  and  innocent  too. 

Full  often  I  wonder  her  name  and  her  station ; 
I  've  known  from  the  first  she  is  foreign  by  nation. 
Her  language  —  ah  me  !    would  that  language  were 

mine  ! 
The  land  of  her  birth  is  the  land  of  the  Rhine. 


MISCELLANEOUS  239 

O  Germany  !  home  of  sweet  music  and  song ! 
My  feet  for  thy  vine-covered  terraces  long. 
With  Her  for  a  guide  through  thy  sun-purpled  air, 
How  gladly  my  heart  would  go  wandering  there ! 

Some  castle  enthroned  in  thy  hills  there  must  be 
That  shelter  would  furnish  for  her  and  for  me ; 
Some  crag  overhanging  some  vine-embowered  vale, 
Where  beauty  might  bloom  and  where  love  would  not 
fail. 

Ah  me !  such  a  spot  it  were  pleasant  to  see, 
And  pleasanter  far  in  its  secret  to  be !  .  .  . 
Stay,  stay,  O  ye  castles  and  day-dreams  so  fair !  — 
Ye  solace  the  heart,  though  but  castles  in  air. 

To-morrow  I  '11  meet  her  again  ;  and  her  smile 
Will  lighten  life's  roadway  for  many  a  mile. 
That  face  in  my  dream,  were  life's  journeying  done, 
Would  lumine  the  pathway  that  leads  to  the  sun. 

The  end  of  the  roadway  will  come  at  the  last. 
Our  eyes  will  be  dull,  and  our  smiles  will  have  passed  ; 
And  never,  perhaps,  will  our  voices  be  heard, 
Nor  ever  our  souls  by  those  accents  be  stirred. 

If  true  that  we  Somewhere  attain  to  our  own  — 
A  realm  of  the  heart,  though  the  tongue  be  unknown  — 
We  each  will  discern  who  the  other  may  be  : 
I  better  know  her  and  she  better  know  me. 


240  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


SWEETEST  SONGS  ARE  NEVER  SUNG 

[1879] 


The  sweetest  songs  are  never  sung  — 

So  the  Poets  say. 

The  tenderest  chords  are  never  strung ; 
The  merriest  bells  are  never  rung. 

Well-a-day  !     Well-a-day ! 
Let  the  Poets  have  their  way  — 

Let  them  have  their  way  ! 
All  that   sighing   Minstrels   sing  can  never  me 

dismay. 
/  can  hear  sweet  bells  go  pealing  —  pealing  joyously 

to-day  ! 

/  can   hear  their  silvery   pealing,    hear  their  merry 
roundelay  ! 

ii 

The  fairest  pearls  are  never  found  — 

So  Professors  say. 

The  cheeriest  trumpets  never  sound ; 
The  jauntiest  vessels  go  aground. 

Well-a-day  !     Well-a-day ! 
Let  Professors  have  their  way  — 


MISCELLANEOUS  241 

Let  them  have  their  way  ! 
All   that   dull    Professors  dream   can  never  me 

dismay. 
7  can  see  staunch  ships  come  sailing  —  sailing  proudly 

up  the  bay ! 

/  can  see  their  masts  all  sun-lit   on   a  sky  of  gold 
and  gray ! 

in 
The  saintliest  prayer  is  never  said  — 

So  the  Preachers  say. 
The  daintiest  board  is  never  spread ; 
The  loveliest  maid  is  never  wed. 

Well-a-day !     Well-a-day ! 
Let  the  Preachers  have  their  way  — 

Let  them  have  their  way  ! 
All   that  dullard   Parsons  dream  can  never  me 

dismay. 
I  know  fate  of    lovely  maidens  —  maidens   fair   and 

sweet  as  day ! 

/  the  loveliest   maid   in  thousands  am   to  bear  full 
soon  away ! 


242  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 


THE    SCHOOLMASTER'S    DREAM 

Weary  with  toil  at  desk  and  board  and  book, 
Gladly  he  dropped  the  crayon  in  its  nook ; 
But  forcing  to  his  lips  a  kindly  smile, 
And  touching  with  soft  hand  his  bell  the  while, 
Said  cheerfully,  "  The  hour  to  close  is  nigh  : 
The  setting  sun  drops  down  the  western  sky. 
To-morrow,  with  new  rest,  will  come  new  strength ; 
We  reach,  perchance,  untiring  days  at  length  1 " 
Then  rang  again,  and  noting  the  sweet  grace 
And  eagerness  that  lit  each  fair  young  face, 
Dismissed  them  all  into  the  evening  air 
With  fervent  blessing  and  an  inward  prayer. 

The  master's  soul  was  sorrowful  with  doubt  — 
He  whose  triumphant  faith  should  be  so  stout. 
His  pupils  were  so  sluggish  in  the  arts ! 
They  had  such  feverish  and  impatient  hearts ! 
"  O  soul !  "  he  said,  "  thy  toil  meets  no  return. 
Life's  cheeriest  fires  to  blackened  embers  burn. 
No  adequate  return,"  again  he  said, 
And  on  the  desk  before  him  leaned  his  head. 
The  western  windows  opened  to  the  blue ; 
The  sinking  sun  sent  slanting  shadows  through  : 
He  saw  it  not,  nor  heard  the  droning  flies,— 
But,  lulled  by  Nature's  opiate,  closed  his  eyes. 


MISCELLANEOUS  243 

He  sees  nor  hears  —  his  soul's  tired  pinions  sweep 
The  shadowy  vale  of  Death's  twin-brother,  Sleep. 
All  day,  sad  voices,  sounding  in  his  ear, 
Had  filled  his  spirit  with  a  nameless  fear. 
Surely  no  followers,  in  this  sunless  land, 
Would  jeer  and  beckon  him  on  every  hand  ! 
But  ah  !  ev'n  here  —  though  with  no  taunt  or  shout  — 
A  myriad  spirits  thronged  him  round  about ; 
And  with  a  soothing  sound,  as  of  a  wind 
Low  breathing  through  the  fragrant  groves  of  Ind, 
A  single  Angel  —  not  of  gloom,  but  light  — 
Said  tenderly,  "  O  King,  thy  wrongs  recite !  " 

"Alas,  no  King,"  the  master  said,  "am  I  ! 
Even  the  crown  of  laurel-leaves  is  dry 
Which  in  my  younger  years  my  sister  wove, 
Because  at  college  eagerly  I  strove 
And  in  the  contests  bore  away  the  prize !  " 
"  Nay,"  said  the  Angel,  "  principalities, 
States,  empires,  kingdoms,  —  these  all  pass  away, 
Forgotten  even  in  an  earthly  day. 
The  crown  immortal,  the  enduring  throne, 
These,  to  be  steadfast,  must  be  like  thine  own ! 
He  who  the  light  to  one  dark  soul  shall  bring, 
Among  the  sons  of  men  is  more  than  King. 

"  No  word  thou  utterest,  or  good  or  ill, 
But  sounds  forever,  —  wild  or  soft  or  shrill,  — 
Fast  held  within  the  vibrant  air's  embrace. 
If  words  of  thine  shall  brighten  one  sad  face, 


244  ADDITIONAL  POEMS 

Thine  accents  ease  a  brother's  heavy  load, 
Thy  daily  task  reveal  where  truth  is  strowed, 
Then  rest  content !  for  there  shall  come  a  year, 
In  Time's  rich  flood,  when  back  into  thine  ear 
With  ten-fold  power  thy  words,  or  ill  or  good, 
Shall  speed  with  force  that  may  not  be  withstood. 
Then  happy  thou,  if  in  thine  ear  shall  ring 
Words  that  shall  crown  thee  servant,  helper,  king  1 " 

The  master  smiled.     His  face  with  peace  was  lit 
Where  lately  pain  had  overshadowed  it. 
"  But  —  sympathy  !  "  he  cried.     "  Sweet  spirit,  stay  ! 
Fain  would  I  have  some  token  by  the  way. 
Daily  I  toil,  nor  meet  a  single  smile 
To  ease  the  burden  of  one  lonely  mile." 
"Awake!  "  the  Angel  answered,  —  "thou  art  blind." 
He  raised  his  head.    "  Please,  sir,  we  stayed  behind, — 
You  fell  asleep,  —  you  would  not  wake  for  us  !  " 
(Two  little-ones  beside  his  knee  spoke  thus.) 
"  You  love  us,  and  try  hard,  —  we  know  you  do  ; 
And  we  have  brought  this  little  flower  for  you." 


MISCELLANEOUS  245 


OLD    TIMOTHY   JOHN 

AND  HIS  FREQUENT  REFRAIN,  "  POTATOES  ! 
OH,  POTATOES  !  " 


Not  all  the  heroes  of  the  earth 

Have  gained  their  victory  with  the  sword . 
Not  every  child  of  noble  birth 

Has  borne  the  escutcheon  of  a  lord. 

Full  oft  by  gray  and  crumbling  tomb, 
By  darkling  waters'  whirling  flow, 

May  radiant  asters  beauteous  bloom, 
And  fragrant-everlasting  grow. 


Old  Timothy  John  was  a  marvelous  man, 
And  always  a  happy  one,  too,  as  he  ran 
With  load  upon  load  of  potatoes. 
"  Six  dollars,  and  health,  and  a  hand-cart !  "  said  he  ; 
"  Oh,  who  in  the  city  can  wealthier  be ! 
Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 

The  hush  of  the  morning  was  stirred  by  his  voice, 
And  ever  till  evening  he  offered  a  choice 
Of  several  kinds  of  potatoes. 


246  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

"  I  warrant  them  sound  as  a  drum !  "  cried  John  — 
"Though  this  is  <a  hollow  comparison  '  ! 
Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 

Nor  ever  a  wife  or  a  child  had  he. 

Poor  fellow !  no  weight  ever  lay  on  his  knee 

But  a  bushel  or  so  of  potatoes. 
"  My  cart  is  my  wife,  and  my  child,  and  my  friend. 
To  a  family  carriage"  said  he,  "  I  pretend  ! 
Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 

Full  certainly  Tim  was  a  marvelous  man, 
And  quite  a  philosopher,  too,  as  he  ran 

Dispensing  his  stock  of  potatoes. 
"A  pox  o'  your  logic  ! "  cried  moralist  John  : 
"  Men  soon  would  decease  if  they  didn't  live  on  — 
Potatoes  !     Oh,  potatoes  !  " 

"  An'  talk  o'  your  '  Nature '  and  «  Physics  '  !  "  said  Tim, 
While,  staring,  his  audience  looked  at  him 

And  then  at  his  load  of  potatoes. 
"  Ho,  ho ! "  he  said,  shoving  his  cart  in  the  pause, 
"  Is  n't  here  an  effect  that 's  ahead  o'  the  cause  ? 
Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 

Not  much  of  religion,  perhaps,  had  Tim ; 
But  often  his  measure  ran  over  the  brim 

As  he  sold  to  the  poor  their  potatoes. 
"  Don't  mind  the  odd  nickel,"  he  also  would  say, 
If  he  saw  they  were  really  ill  able  to  pay. 
"  Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 


MISCELLANEOUS  247 

The  boys  loved  his  coming ;  and  often  they  cried, 
"  Oh,  please,  dear  old  Tim  !  " — so  he  gave  them  a  ride 

On  the  top  of  his  load  of  potatoes. 
The  girls  loved  his  coming ;  and  one,  I  know, 
Once  threw  him  a  kiss  —  though  he  called  it  "  a 

blow!" 
"  Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 

Not  much  of  a  scholar,  perhaps,  was  he, 
Though  seldom  he  passed  in  an  "X"  for  a  "V" 

As  he  paid  for  a  load  of  potatoes. 
"What  grammar!"  he  cried,  when  the  adding  was 

done  ; 

"  Two  tens  and  a  cypher  do  n't  make  twenty-one ! 
Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 

No  loud  politician  was  honest  old  Tim, 
Yet  no  one  could  purchase  a  vote  of  him 

Though  they  bought  his  whole  load  of 

potatoes. 

"  I  vote  for  the  man  the  best  fitted,"  said  he, 
"And  he  wouldn't  offer  a  bribe  to  me. 
Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 

"  My  choice  is  the  man,"  cried  Timothy  John, 

"  Who  '11  help  push  the  world's  great  hand-cart  on, 

And  none  o'  your  '  small  potatoes.' 
The  man  who  could  purchase  my  vote  when  he  would, 
Would  purchase  my  liberty,  too,  if  he  could. 
Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 


248  ADDITIONAL  POEMS 

Full  certainly  Tim  was  a  marvelous  man, 
And  always  a  happy  one,  too,  as  he  ran 

With  his  lessening  load  of  potatoes. 
He  sang  from  a  heart  overflowing  and  free, 
And  never  mistrusted  the  universe  he. 
"  Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 

But  Timothy  John,  a  few  harvests  ago, 
Was  noticed  as  steering  unwontedly  slow 

With  his  cargo  of  new  potatoes. 
"  Next  planting,"  said  he,  "  I  may  go  under  ground 
The  biggest  potato  the  hemisphere  round  ! 
Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 

Be  sure  that  if  Tim  has  indeed  since  found 
The  Garden  where  fruits  are  supposed  to  abound 

(Though  never,  perhaps,  potatoes), 
His  resonant  voice  will  be  heard  on  high, 
And  in  loftier  strains  than  his  own  old  cry, 
"  Potatoes  —  oh,  potatoes  !  " 


MISCELLANEOUS  249 


MIDAS   AND    MUSAGETES 

Up  and  down  the  world  he  goes, 

Poor  old  fellow,  lacking  love ! 

Thinking  his  Parisian  glove 
And  the  pattern  of  his  hose 

All-sufficient  to  compel 

Man  and  maid  to  speak  him  well. 

Yes,  he  owns  uncounted  cash, 
And  his  rents  accrue  him  much. 
He  has  had  the  Midas-touch, 

Getting  gold  where  others  trash  ; 
Getting  everything  but  play  — 
Even  getting  thin  and  gray. 

And  he  really  is  n't  bad  — 

Father  much  the  same,  you  know, 
Mother  loving  dross  and  show, 

Ancestors  half-ill,  half-mad. 
What  could  best  Psychologist 
Hope  to  grind  from  such  a  grist  ? 

Well  I  knew  him  as  a  boy  : 

Quick  to  see  where  he  could  get 
Half  a  dime  in  youthful  bet ; 

Slow  alone  in  finding  joy  — 


250  ADDITIONAL  POEMS 

Slow  in  action  of  the  heart : 
Ossified  from  very  start. 

Not  till  forty-five  he  wed. 

Each  felt  each  a  lucky  strike  : 
Terms,  "  Deposit  cash  alike  "  ! 

And  at  fifty  she  was  dead  — 

Like  their  child  that  came  between, 
Crushed  in  soulless  wealth's  machine. 

Met  we  on  the  street  to-day ; 

Dry  his  smile  as  long  ago. 

"Ah,"  he  said  ;  "does  fount  still  flow  ? 
Has  your  Muse  begun  to  pay  ? 

Million  each,  for  Muses  Nine, 

I  can  cash  with  single  line !  " 

Said  I,  as  he  strode  along, 

"  Dine  with  me  to-night  and  see ; 
Meet  my  rosy  children  three, 

And  peruse  my  latest  song. 
It  and  they  will  sing  away 
All  the  fever  of  your  day." 

Up  and  down  the  world  he  goes, 

Visits  Egypt  and  Japan, 

Yet  is  not  a  happy  man. 
Lands  of  sun  or  lands  of  snows 

Immaterial  would  be, 

Could  he  sing  my  songs  with  me. 


MISCELLANEOUS  251 


MOONLIGHT   ON    COLLEGE    HILL 

[  Midsummer,  1879 1 

The  hour  is  late  : 

Borne  up  by  the  weight 

Of  the  sun  as  it  sank  through  its  western  gate, 

The  moon  has  uprisen  —  full-orbed  —  sedate  ;  — 

Has  uprisen  in  glee, 

From  the  eastern  sea ; 

And  now  with  the  stars  holds  jubilee 

On  the  high  wide  floor  of  Immensity. 

As  the  zephyrs  soar, 

Now  higher,  now  lower, 

"  Come  hither,"  they  call  to  me  o'er  and  o'er, 

"And  wander  with  us  on  the  reservoir ! " 

I  wander  —  and  gaze  ; 

And  the  light  wind  plays 

With  the  level  waters,  and  shivers  the  rays 

That  whirl  on  the  surface  like  fugitive  fays. 

The  undulant  ground, 

For  miles  around,  — 

Rock,  river,  and  valley,  and  meadow,  and  mound,  — 

Is  lit  by  the  moon  with  light  profound. 


252  ADDITIONAL  POEMS 

White  radiance  stains 

Roofs,  towers,  and  vanes, 

And  the  moonlight  gleams  on  the  college  panes 

Like  dew  on  the  grass  after  summer  rains. 

The  river  below 

Drifts  pale  as  snow, 

And  over  its  current,  as  airs  soft  blow, 

Broad  ripples  of  silvery  frost-work  go. 

Down  miles  of  stream,  — 

A  faint,  far  gleam,  — 

The  harbor  glows,  till  its  waters  seem 

A  jasper  haze  in  a  Patmian  dream. 

There  bridges  four, 

Time-shaken  and  hoar, 

Stand  trembling  in  constant  Traffic's  roar, 

And  fade  in  the  gloom  of  the  farther  shore. 

There,  too,  on  their  trips 

'Twixt  the  ferry-slips, 

Go  dragons  with  flame  that  flares  and  dips,  — 

Black  shuttles  in  Trade's  Apocalypse. 

On  the  neighboring  hill,  — 

Dim,  lonely,  and  still, — 

The  powder-house  echoes,  with  babblings  shrill, 

The  wail  of  the  plaintive  whip-poor-will  ; 


MISCELLANEOUS  253 

Still  proudly  it  stands, 

O'erlooking  the  lands 

Where  Washington  toiled  with  his  patriot  bands 

And  threw  up  redoubts  with  his  own  white  hands. 

And  here  is  the  road 

Where  the  steed  once  strode  — 

The  moon  still  gleaming  as  then  it  glowed, 

Though  the  tide  of  a  hundred  years  has  flowed  — 

On  which  Paul  Revere, 

In  hope  and  fear, 

Rode  sounding  aloud  in  the  nation's  ear 

The  knell  of  the  British  grenadier. 

In  my  walk  I  stay, 

And  the  scene  survey 

W7ith  a  startled  eye !  for  I  hear  a  sway 

As  of  hurrying  hoof-beats  far  away  ! 

But  I  listen  again  : 

And  my  ears  attain 

No  sound  but  the  sudden  and  sad  refrain, 

And  the  patter  and  splash,  of  summer  rain,  - 

As  up  from  the  west, 

At  the  storm's  behest, 

Dark  shadows  rise  wild  o'er  the  landscape's  breast, 

Blotting  moon,  river,  harbor,  and  all  the  rest. 


254  ADDITIONAL  POEMS 


COLLEGE    HILL 

One  thought  to-day,  and  one  alone, 
Has  filled  the  circle  of  my  mind  : 
And  fairer  sunbeam  never  shone 

On  eyes  that  long  had  wandered  blind. 
My  heart  to-day,  with  happy  thrill, 
Has  been  with  thee,  O  College  Hill ! 
With  thee,  with  thee, 
O  College  Hill ! 

The  thunder  of  far  Alpine  Hills, 

The  storm-cloud  of  the  Southern  Seas, 
The  murmur  of  Spain's  murmuring  rills,  — 

Of  these  I  've  dreamed,  nor  dreamed  of  ease. 
But  happiest  thoughts  my  bosom  fill 
Whene'er  I  turn,  O  College  Hill, 
To  thee,  to  thee, 

O  College  Hill ! 

The  room  grows  wide  wherein  I  sit : 

These  narrow  city  walls  expand : 
I  see  again  thy  robin  flit, 

I  see  thy  lawns  on  every  hand,  — 
As  green,  as  vocal,  as  the  rill 
That  danced  adown  the  sacred  hill 
Of  Helicon, 

O  College  Hill ! 


MISCELLANEOUS  255 

I  see  thy  rising  slopes,  thy  halls. 

O  Mother  Earth,  thou  'rt  greener  there  ! 
And  gentler  be  the  rain  that  falls, 
And  sweeter,  balmier  be  the  air, 
Forever,  and  forever  still, 
Upon  thy  breast,  O  College  Hill ! 
On  thy  loved  breast, 

O  College  Hill ! 

Again  I  seem  to  see  thy  trees  — 

Thy  silver-maple,  mountain-ash  ; 
And  dearer  to  my  heart  are  these 
Than  Eastern  vine  or  calabash  ! 
I  would  not  part  with  these,  to  till 
By  fair  Euphrates,  College  Hill ! 
Or  Gihon's  edge, 

O  College  Hill ! 

Again  I  see  —  more  blest  than  all  — 

Full  many  a  dear,  remembered  face ; 
Again  I  hear  the  laugh,  the  call, 

The  cheer  that  rang  from  place  to  place : 
The  laugh  and  cheer  that  echo  still 
About  thy  halls,  O  College  Hill, 
Could  I  but  hear, 

O  College  Hill ! 

Again,  in  thought,  I  grasp  the  hand 

Of  comrades  north  and  southward  gone. 


256  ADDITIONAL  POEMS 

I  follow  them  !  and  in  the  land 

Of  Danube,  Rhine,  and  Amazon 
Again  I  feel  the  electric  thrill 
I  knew  on  thee,  O  College  Hill, 
When  hand  clasped  hand 
On  College  Hill ! 


SONNETS 


IN  A  COUNTRY   BURIAL-GROUND 

I  lingered  in  the  wayside  home  of  rest, 
Enchanted  by  the  dream  of  peace  it  wore. 
"  G.  L.  —  Eighteen  "  :  the  marble  told  no  more 
Which  marked  the  turf-mound  where  I  stood  a 
guest. 

A  hundred  times,  perchance,  the  robin's  nest 
Has  swung  above  his  dust,  while,  o'er  and  o'er, 
The  timothy  and  sorrel  locked  the  door 
Which  shuts  him  safe  within  his  chamber  blest. 


MISCELLANEOUS  —  SONNETS         257 

Dear  sleeper !  was  it  ruthless  War's  alarm  — 
Its  demon  sacrifice  —  which  in  thine  hour 
Of  blithesome  strength  compelled  thee  to  the  tomb  ? 

Or  deed  of  love  to  save  another's  harm  ? 

Thou  answerest  not !  contented  with  thy  bower 
And  ever  wearing  youth's  transcendent  bloom. 


LOVE'S   PREDICAMENT 

In  loving  I  do  find  such  sweet  employ 

That  more  of  love  I  make  each  hour  my  quest. 

Yet  presently  I  find  this  puzzling  joy  : 

Am  I  Love's  servitor  —  or  Love's  dear  guest ! 

For  while  in  strowing  of  my  love  I  live, 

No  less  of  love  remains  to  quench  love's  thirst ; 
In  truth,  to  strow  is  gain,  for  though  I  give, 
Beseems  more  love  is  mine  than  mine  at  first. 

Shall  I  then  cease  to  love,  and  so  give  more  ? 
Deny  myself,  and  let  the  world  have  all  ? 
So  be  it !     Self  I  '11  hide  behind  Love's  door,  — 
Enswathe  me  fondly  in  Love's  blindfold  pall. 

Oh,  reckless  venture !  for  thus  love  I  most, 

And  Love,  thrice  over,  beams  my  smiling  host. 


258  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


PENALTY 

What,  little  Golden-hair  !  —  upon  my  knee 

Hast  thou  thus  clambered  and  purloined  a  kiss  ? 
Must  I  from  noonday's  transient  slumber-bliss 
Be  wakened  by  such  artful  villainy  ? 

And  now  thou  smilest,  hinting  I  should  be 
Joyed  at  thy  stealing,  and  accept  submiss 
This  theft  of  riches  from  fond  love's  abyss, 
I  all-unconscious  !     Nay,  a  penalty  ! 

Meet  justice  as  transgressor  ever  heard 
Do  I  impose  on  thee,  thus  flagrant  caught. 
Lift  up,  red  lips  !  receive  this  judgment-lore  : 

Lo  !  for  thy  guilt  I  sound  the  ancient  Word, 
"  If  from  thy  neighbor  thou  hast  taken  aught, 
Fourfold  in  similar  thou  shalt  restore." 


TO   THE    MUSE,  AFTER   SILENCE 

Is  yet  my  penance  ended  ?     Will  the  Muse, 
Against  whom  I  offended,  come  once  more 
And  dwell  with  me,  and  bless  me  as  of  yore  ?  — 
Fondly,  as  erst,  caress  me  ?  radiant  hues 

Of  gracious  dawn  throw  o'er  me  ?  magic  dews 
Of  heavenly  peace  outpour  me  ?     Oh,  the  store 
Of  loftiest  soul-uplifting,  when  heart's  door 
Lies  open,  and  Song's  gifting  lore  ensues ! 


MISCELLANEOUS  — SONNETS         259 

Then  come  to  me,  Divine  One !     Lo,  I  kneel 

Humbly  where  knelt  I  oft  to  know  thy  kiss. 

How  have  I  lived,  not  having  touch  of  thee ! 
Even  as  sinking  swimmers  when  they  feel 

Shore's  sands  beneath  them,  welcome  I  this  bliss. 

Thy  strength  supports  —  exalts  —  makes  much 
of  me. 


" GOOD -BYE" 

I  love  the  early  meaning  of  the  phrase  — 

It  takes  all  sting  of  sadness  from  the  word, 

Leaving  it  blithe  as  carol  of  a  bird 

When  golden  twilight  shuts  the  summer  days. 
Not  "lost,"  not  "severed"-  — nay,  not  these  the  rays, 

Like  dying  planet's,  when  "  Good-bye  "  is  heard ; 

But  "  Good  -be  -with  -ye  !  "-  —  as  when  heavens  are 
stirred 

To  rosy  tints  invoking  hearts  of  praise. 
O  love,  dear  love !  I  bid  you  not  farewell ! 

O  friend  departing,  still  we  are  akin  ! 

O  parent,  wheresoe'er  your  pathway  fares  ! 
The  night  descends,  but  like  a  silver  bell, 

Reverberant  eternal  depths  within, 

Your  sweet  "  Good-bye  "  unmeasured  blessing  bears. 


260  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


REBIRTH 

No  recollection  have  I  that  I  asked 

To  join  this  human  caravan's  sad  toiling  ! 

Yet  erst  I  may  have  lived  ;  — 'neath  sky  as  broiling 

As  this  to-day,  I  may  have  wept  or  basked. 

If  so  it  were,  and  I  were  oft  o'ertasked, 

As  now  and  here,  and  weary  with  earth's  moiling, — 
Love's  loftiest  works  oft  finding  naught  but 

foiling,  — 
Could  I  my  dread  of  birth  renewed  have  masked  ? 

Yea,  truly  I  believe  I  should  have  cried :  — 
"  Dear  Mother  Nature,  thee  I  still  will  trust ! 
If  thou  hast  need  of  me,  still  let  me  serve ! ".  .  . 

So,  being  here,  my  heart  I  have  applied 

To  give  Man's  hopes  and  aims  an  upward  thrust, 
And  charm  dull  Chaos  into  Beauty's  curve. 


ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

IV.    TIMES  AND  SEASONS 


FOR   A    BIRTHDAY 

I  keep  no  reckoning  of  the  Years 

As  they  pass  by. 
Life's  seasons,  with  their  smiles  and  tears, 

Unnumbered  fly. 

So  whether  twenty  be  the  score  — 
Or  twenties  two  —  or  three  —  or  four  — 

Still  young  am  I  ! 

But  ah  !  the  Days  are  mine  to  hold 

In  loving  fee, 
And  all  their  richness  I  am  bold 

To  feel  and  see. 

I  hail  each  morn  the  added  round, 
And  in  their  wealth  to-day  is  found 

This  thought  of  thee  ! 

Couldst  thou  but  gain  the  good  I  pray, 
My  prayers  might  cease  : 

Thy  Birthday  would  become  a  day 
Of  heart's  release. 

Not  wealth  nor  honors  wish  I  thee  — 

But  loftier  wish  :  that  thou  mayst  be 
With  self  at  peace  ! 
261 


262  ADDITIONAL  POEMS 


MERRY    CHRISTMAS 

In  the  roar  of  the  world's  busy  hive 
There  is  better  for  some  than  to  "  thrive." 
There  are  songs  in  the  chill  winter  air  ; 
They  summon  to  do  and  to  dare  :  — 
"  Peace  on  earth  unto  men  of  good  will !  " 
Above  all  the  pain  and  the  ill, 
Merry  Christmas  ! 

O  prophet  who  voiced  the  high  dream 
That  had  birth  beside  Galilee's  stream ! 
The  cross  was  not  far  from  the  song,  — 
And  the  thorns  to  high  dreams  still  belong  ! 
But  the  peace,  the  exuberant  thrill 
In  the  soul  of  all  men  of  good  will  — 
This  makes  Christmas  ! 


"THEN    FELT    I    LIKE    SOME 

WATCHER   OF  THE   SKIES" 

[Christmas,  1905] 

A  star,  you  say  ? 

Oh,  yea ! 

A  star  of  love  and  light 
That  rose  in  Nazareth  that  far-off  time  ! 
And,  piercing  earth's  dull  night, 
Lured  selfishness  away,  —  made  brotherhood  sublime. 


TIMES   AND    SEASONS  263 

Before  that  day  ? 

Oh,  yea  ! 

Rare  souls  of  inward  flame 
From  age  to  age  resplendent  rose  and  gleamed, 

Uplifting  human  aim, 

Illumining  with  gold  man's  skies  that  grewsome 
seemed. 

Earth  still  is  gray  ? 

Oh,  yea ! 

But  stars  of  love  and  life 
Still  rise  wherever  noble  souls  aspire,  — 

Transfiguring  hate  and  strife, 
Redeeming  sordid  earth  with  their  exalting  fire. 

Strive  we  as  they  ? 

Oh,  yea  ! 

Be  each  a  luring  orb, 
With  rays  outflashing  for  poor  human  eyes, 

Till  love  all  wrong  absorb, 

And  round  the  illumined  earth  Good  Will  indeed 
arise. 


264  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


BON    VOYAGE 

Over  the  Ocean  !     The  waters  are  blue  ; 

Joy  to  the  ship,  friend,  —  and  blessing  to  you ! 

Days  of  deep  calm  on  the  wave  are  before  you  ; 

Here  is  our  hope  that  with  health  they  may  store  you  ! 
Over  the  Ocean  to  wonderful  shores  ! 
Voyager,  voyager,  marvelous  doors 
Swiftly  shall  open  their  lures  to  your  sight,  — 
Dawnings  of  Italy,  Syrian  night  ; 
And  never  a  door  but  our  wishes  pass  through, 
That  good,  as  each  swings,  may  be  waiting  for  you  ! 

Over  the  Ocean  to  wonderful  lands  !  — 

Blessing,  O  friend,  from  these  stay-at-home  hands 

Follows  you  all  the  mysterious  track, 

Wishing  you  peace  till  you  turn  to  come  back. 
Then  with  your  vision  adance  with  the  glow 
Of  Germany's  vineyards  and  Switzerland's  snow, 
Dear  to  our  hearts  shall  again  be  your  homing, 
Rich  with  your  harvest  of  rest  and  of  roaming. 

Voyager  !  is  there  a  voyage  mysterious 
Waiting  ahead  for  us  all  —  more  imperious, 
Vaster  in  might  than  all  voyages  here  ? 
Up  with  the  anchor  !     Forth  valiantly  steer ! 


TIMES    AND    SEASONS  265 


DEATH  OF  MY  FRIEND:  THE 
OLD  YEAR 

[December  31,  1878] 

What !  is  that  good  Year  dying  ?  — 
The  Year  that  has  done  so  much  for  me  ? 
That  so  often  has  had  a  kind  touch  for  me  ? 

Out  in  the  cold  there,  dying  ?  — 
Poor  Year  !  what  a  sorrowful  end  for  thee  ! 
But  the  host  thou  hast  blest  will  stand  friend 
for  thee ! 

What !  is  never  a  mourner  wailing  ?  — 
Is  the  whole  wide  hemisphere  rollicking? 
The  world  with  a  foundling  frolicking  ? 

Old  Year,  there  surely  is  wailing !  — 
My  heart  in  its  gratitude  sings  for  thee ! 
My  tongue  this  high  requiem  rings  for  thee ! 


266  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


EASTER 

Beauty  for  ashes  forever  the  planet  puts  on ! 
Blossoms  and  birdlings  and  brooks  when  the  winter 

is  gone  ! 

Rise,  O  my  soul,  to  the  Easter  without  and  within ; 
Flee  from  life's  bareness  and  weakness  and  selfhood 

and  sin. 

Live  with  the  lavish  forthspending  of  Nature  at  play ; 
Fling  on  the  path  of  thy  fellows  some  luminous  ray. 
Sleep  not  while  War  and  Oppression  hold  nations  in 

woe ; 

Wide  in  the  furrows  of  Man  seed  regenerate  sow. 
Listen  !  the  song  of  Humanity's  springtime  is  near ! 
Join  in  the  chorus  sublime  which  the  race  yet  shall 

hear. 
Laugh  like  the  sun,   sound    the   bobolink's   jubilant 

cry  : 
This  shall  be  Easter  full-bloom,  fit  for  earth  or  for 

sky. 


ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

V.     OCCASIONAL   AND   PERSONAL 


IN  GRATEFUL  LOVE 

[Dedication  of  a  volume  of  poems,  1880] 

To  her  whose  sympathetic  heart 

hath  been  my  stay ; 
Whose  gentle  hand  hath  guided  me 

in  all  my  way  ; 
Whose  teachings  in  my  childhood's  hours 

were  love  alone ; 
Whose  arms  of  counsel  now  in  youth 

are  round  me  thrown  ; 
To  her  whose  bright  example  is 

my  guiding  star  ; 
Whose  love  and  faith  are  firmer  than 

the  hills  afar ; 
Whose  presence  hovers  o'er  me  like 

some  holy  dove  — 
To  HER  these  little  songs  are  given, 

in  grateful  love. 


267 


268  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


TO    MY    CHILDREN    ON   THEIR 
MARRIAGE    DAY 

An  old  Italian  story  tells 

Of  strife  of  town  with  town, 

Where  men  of  valor,  for  their  homes, 
Laid  life  in  honor  down. 

One  morn  a  youth  with  head  unclad, 

In  scorn  of  helmet's  guard, 
Went  forth  to  fiercest  fight,  and  yet 

At  night  returned  unscarred. 

"  How  dar'dst  thou,  youth,  without  thy  mail, 

Adventure  on  the  field  !  "- 
"  My  parent  kissed  me  on  the  brow  : 

That  kiss  was  helm  and  shield  ! " 


My  children  !  starting  forth  this  hour 
On  life's  untraveled  ways, 

Receive  a  parent's  kiss,  as  guard 
Against  all  evil  days. 

T  is  magic  on  the  field  of  right, 
A  shield  in  all  you  do. 


OCCASIONAL  AND    PERSONAL       269 

Accept  it,  —  you  remain  unscath'd  ! 
It  means,  "  I  trust  in  you  !  " 

'T  is  mighty  too  on  plains  of  grief, 

If  burdens  you  endure. 
Recall  it,  —  sorrows  lose  their  sting  ; 

It  means,  "  My  love  is  sure !  " 

A  kiss  ?  —  a  helmet  and  a  shield  ! 

I  give  it  as  we  part ; 
Oh,  wear  it  as  a  charm  and  balm 
'Gainst  every  earthly  dart. 


"LOOK    BACK    AT   TIMES" 

Each  morn,  along  the  dewy  street, 

As  cityward  I  went, 
"Part  way  "  with  me  her  eager  feet 
My  little  daughter  bent. 

Then,  as  I  hastened  from  her  side, 

And  fast  the  distance  grew, 
"  Look  back,  look  back  at  times  !  "  she  cried, 
"  I  '11  wave  my  hand  to  you  !  " 

Look  back  ?     Ah,  little  did  we  think 

Her  phrase  of  childhood  love 
In  after  years  my  food  and  drink  — 

My  soul's  delight  —  would  prove. 


2/o  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

Unmeasuredly  I  now  rejoice 

In  that  blest  earlier  day ; 
Nor  need  I  now  to  hear  her  voice 

Her  summons  to  obey. 

Yea,  oft,  my  child,  I  backward  look,  — 
Again  those  years  are  mine ; 

Their  pages  are  my  Golden  Book 
With  legends  all  divine. 

Within  its  leaves,  as  in  a  dream, 

Dear  visions  come  and  go. 
Like  walks  in  Fairyland  they  seem, 

And  ever  sweeter  grow. 

Your  baby  hand  still  clasps  my  own, 

Your  kiss  is  on  my  cheek. 
Though  more  than  twenty  years  have  flown 

Their  blessing  grows  not  weak. 

O  vanished  darling  !  —  still  my  pride  !  — 
Where  roam  your  feet  to-day  ? 

Forever  young  your  years  abide, 
Though  mine  are  flecked  with  gray. 

Forever  young  abide  her  years  — 

Yea,  all  immortal  she  ! 
And  still  —  the  balm  for  all  my  fears  — 

She  waves  her  hand  to  me. 


OCCASIONAL  AND    PERSONAL       27 


OUT    OF   THE    DISTANCE 

[To  one  who  sent  me  spring  blossoms  from  the  banks  of  the 
Fox  River,  Illinois. —  1890] 

A  hand  from  out  of  the  distance  reached, 
And  practiced  what  I  had  often  preached. 

That  hand  ?     It  was  the  hand  of  one 
Who  often  fair  deeds  of  good  hath  done, 
Though  always  with  sweet  unconscious  grace, 
Like  violets  in  some  greenwood  place. 

That  distance  ?     'T  were  thousand  miles  if  I  ran  — 
But  heart  can  o'erleap  it  in  moment's  span ! 
That  distance  ?     The  soul  is  unmindful  of  space  : 
I  dream  I  am  there,  and  I  see  face  to  face. 

That  preaching  ?     High  word  of  Man's  greatness  it 

taught ; 

And  "  Scatter  fair  blossoms ! " — this  bidding  it  brought. 
And  she  the  high  message  with  fervor  received,  — 
Then  showed  by  her  life  she  its  Gospel  believed ! 

Fair  blossoms,  I  bless  you  !     You  bring  to  me  peace. 
Your  fragrance,  deep  hid  in  my  heart,  shall  not  cease. 
You  bear  me  on  wings  to  loved  river  and  dell, 
And  the  Voice  of  the  ^Eons  you  whisper  :  "  'T  is  well !  " 

O  hand  that  out  of  the  distance  reached, 

To  me  and  my  soul  you  have  more  than  "  preached." 


272  ADDITIONAL  POEMS 


UP    HIGHER 

[Acceptance  of  an  invitation.  —  July,  1890] 

Brother  and  Lover !  whom  I  soon  shall  see : 
Whose  call  I  follow  to  learn  liberty  ! 
The  noon-day  terror  calleth  me  on  wings 
To  where  the  pine  upon  Monadnock  sings. 
I  toil  and  sweat,  as  thou  amid  the  hay, 
But  lack  what  gives  the  beauty  to  thy  day  — 
Fragrance  of  clover,  coolness  in  the  deeps 
Beneath  low  branches  where  the  long  grass  creeps, 
And  most  of  all,  the  high  horizon's  rim, 
Where  cloudy  summits,  swathed  in  beauty,  swim. 

Spirit  of  Nature  !  who  to  me  art  peace  ! 
Happy  when  thou  for  me  dost  speak  release, 
And  with  the  call  from  lowlands  by  the  sea, 
"  Child,  come  up  higher  !  "  mak'st  me  once  more  tree ! 

Yea,  come  up  higher  !  where  the  mountain's  crown 
Is  kissed  by  coolness  as  the  night  sweeps  down ; 
Where  darting  dragon-fly  and  cawing  crow 
Alike  the  wholesome  life  of  Nature  know,  — 
Unbound  by  sorrow,  and  unstained  by  wrongs 
Which  in  the  human  world  drown  angels'  songs. 


OCCASIONAL  AND   PERSONAL       273 

Ah,  is  it  not  a  wretched  daily  plight 
That  with  our  scheming  we  hide  heavenly  light ! 

We  deem  our  petty  plans  shall  scale  the  skies ; 

We  know  not  we  are  blinding  our  own  eyes 
To  sights  and  sounds  and  spiritual  worth 
A  myriad  times  surpassing  those  of  earth. 

Up  higher,  then,  indeed  !     And  as  my  feet 
Shall  shake  from  them  the  dust  of  city  street, 
May  mind  and  soul  both  likewise  open  fair 
To  hints  of  spirit's  intellectual  air. 
Up  higher  not  alone  from  sea  to  hill, 
But  higher  to  the  highest  heights  of  Will ; 
Up  higher  to  the  peace  beyond  all  strife, 
Up  higher  to  the  true  eternal  life. 


274  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


" SEVENTY ' 

[  Written  of  JAMES  VILA  BLAKE,  and  printed  and  sent  by  friends 
to  many  other  friends,  on  his  birthday.  —  1912  ] 

Did  some  one  say  "  Seventy  "  ?  —  there  's  surely  mis 
counting  ! 

Some  joker  with  match  sent  the  mercury  mounting ! 

Hang  Vila's  thermometer  free  from  caloric, 

Then  fifty  degrees  would  show  all  that 's  historic. 

Observe  his  spry  gait,  and  his  labors  incessant : 

A  boy  is  thus  active  —  old  age  is  quiescent. 

His  ease  of  production  shames  motors  and  horses  — 

Four  dramas  a  year  and  full  forty  discourses  ! 

Young  fellows  of  thirty,  and  even  of  twenty, 

Are  slow  when  compared  with  his  swiftness  and 
plenty. 

Those  lines  are  not  wrinkles  —  they  're  records  of 
laughter 

And  symbols  of  friendships  that  came  trooping  after. 

That  crown  is  not  snow  which  at  times  paints  him 
sober ; 

It 's  blossoming  clematis  —  best  in  October. 

The  "old  "  stop  at  home,  and  complain  if  in  motion  : 

He  leaps  o'er  the  Rockies  and  swims  o'er  the  ocean. 

And  just  grasp  his  hand  —  does  it  feel  at  all  icy  ? 

His  greeting,  health,  wit,  are  alike  warm  and  spicy. 


OCCASIONAL  AND   PERSONAL       275 

In  fact,  we  must  "  play  "  he  no  longer  is  youthful 
If  now,  while  we  celebrate,  we  would  be  truthful ! 
So  why,  after  all,  should  we  go  through  the  motion 
Of  trying  to  magnetize  only  a  notion  ? 
To  me  it  seems  wiser  to  wish  him  some  shirking, 
With  will  to  decrease  his  obsession  for  working. 
Alas  !  such  discretion  comes  only  with  aging, 
And  Vila  each  month  starts  afresh,  with  new  paging ! 
The  worst  of  it  is,  he  will  never  be  older ; 
Each  added  ten  years  sees  him  younger  and  bolder. 
We  simply  "accept "  him,  his  wisdom  and  folly, 
To  hang  in  our  hearts  as  we  hang  Christmas  holly  : 
The  green  is  for  gladness  though  earth  is  in  bleak 
ness, 

The  berries  for  blessings  bestowed  on  our  weakness. 
'Tis  thus  we  enshrine  him  —  a  blessing  of  bringing  — 
And  vision  him  ever  as  childlike  and  singing. 
Rare  spirits  like  Vila  from  youthtime  don't  sever ! 
A  sweet-hearted  boy,  he  '11  stay  youthful  forever. 


2/6  ADDITIONAL  POEMS 

SONNETS 


MOTHER  AND    CHILD 

Beneath  the  arbored  grapevine's  golden  shade 
We  upward  gazed  together  —  she  and  I  ! 
The  clustered  fruit  seemed  hung  as  on  the  sky  ; 
Beyond  my  utmost  reach  it  glowed  and  swayed. 

But  she  was  tall  as  lovely,  and  her  aid 
Upbore  me  to  the  triumph.     Lifted  high, 
I  plucked  the  purple  globes  with  gladsome  cry, 
And  in  her  arms  a  feast  of  Eden  made. 

Perpetual  o'er  me  since  that  childhood  rare, 
Dear  gracious  spirit  vanished  now  afar, 
Have  swayed  high  fruits  you  showed  to  be  desired ; 

And  if,  ascending  through  celestial  air, 

My  soul  perchance  at  times  has  grasped  a  star, 
'Twas  still  by  you  my  upward  aim  was  fired. 


PERSONAL    SONNETS  277 


TO    JAMES   VILA    BLAKE 

[  Printed,  and  sent  by  certain  friends  to  many  other  friends,  on 
his  birthday.  —  1905  ] 

Poet  of  lofty  thought  and  artist  sight, 

Musician  keen,  whose  ears  catch  dulcet  notes, 
Wise  essayist,  whose  dullest  page  is  bright, 
Sane  critic  —  seeing  suns,  ignoring  motes  ; 

Preacher  whose  finest  texts  are  writ  in  deeds, 
Impelling  nobleness  in  young  and  gray ; 
Teacher  whose  art  allures  from  listless  meads 
To  heights  where  Song  and  Masque  hold  purest 
sway; 

More  than  all  these,  rich  lover  and  rare  friend, 
A  thousand  times  sweet  friend  and  lover  true  !  — 
Small  weight  a  world's  admiring  praise  could  lend 
Of  worth  or  grace  to  helper  such  as  you. 

Bays  are  not  theirs  alone  whose  deeds  men  laud  ; 
Wreaths  greenest  are  still  theirs  whom  few  applaud. 


278  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


IN    QUEST   TO    KNOW 

[Dedication  of  "The  Complete  Life,"  a  small  volume  of  moral 
essays,  "  To  my  friend  and  fellow-explorer,  HAROLD  EDDOWES,  in 
grateful  memory  of  many  happy  afternoon  rambles,  in  summer  and 
in  winter  (1884-1887),  about  Fox  River  valley,  Illinois,  during  which 
—  'exploring  Nature  '  both  outwardly  and  inwardly  —  we  talked  not 
seldom  of  matters  such  as  those  treated  of  "  in  the  book  named.  — 
1888] 

Oh,  who  shall  say,  my  brother  and  my  friend,  — 
Shall  e'er  again  our  feet  together  hie  ? 
Oh,  blest  the  woodlands,  blest  the  peaceful  sky 
Where  oft  we  two,  light-hearted  without  end, 

Our  eager  way,  as  children  might,  would  wend  ! 
The  first  spring  flowers  were  those  which  met  our 

eye; 

The  hurrying,  road-edged  river  running  by 
Ne'er  failed  us  once  —  its  every  nook  and  bend 

Fresh  corners  offered  for  our  search  and  growth. 
But  years  are  flying  —  though  they  still  are  grand  ! 
Be  ready,  friend !     Ere  long,  perchance,  we  go 

A  farther  road  than  any,  where  we  both 
May  solve  the  mystery  of  some  other  land, 
And  wander  joyous  still,  in  quest  To  Know. 


PERSONAL   SONNETS  279 


AT   SPRUCE -TREE1 

[June,  1912] 

How  often,  in  my  dreams  of  Treetop  Land, 
It  rose  an  Eldorado  —  Land  of  Gold  ! 
How  often  did  my  eager  wish  expand 
To  what  the  hearts  that  loved  it  had  foretold  ! 

And  now  within  its  woodlands  I  have  roamed, 

Its  grassy,  cloistered  fields  my  feet  have  pressed  ; 
And  while  its  wind-swept  greenness  round  me 

foamed, 
Its  giant  spruce-tree  has  been  made  my  nest. 

What  Eldorado  of  the  passing  years 

E'er  kept  so  well  its  promise  to  the  soul ! 
How  oft  they  brought  but  disappointing  tears 
In  place  of  riches  as  the  longed-for  goal ! 

But  here  are  beauty,  freshness,  life,  and  friends, 

The  richer  ownership  the  more  one  spends. 


1  The  name  given  by  Colonel  Daniel  Crosby  Pearson  to  his 
summer  home  in  Candia,  New  Hampshire.  The  great,  wide-spreading 
spruce-tree,  with  its  hammock  "nest,"  in  front  of  the  house,  towers 
to  a  height  of  sixty  feet  or  more. 


280  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 


GOD'S    MARINERS 

[Printed  in  Unity,  Chicago,  in  celebration  of  its  Twentieth 
Birthday,  March  3,  1898] 


TWENTY  YEARS  PAST 

A  voyage  such  as  vessel  never  knew, 

Forth-starting  on  a  cruise  but  dimly  planned, 
Provisioned  meagrely,  though  ably  manned, 
And  steadfast,  as  each  heavenly  beacon  grew 

Revealing  whither  —  through  horizons  new  ! 

A  course  with  rocks  and  shoals  on  every  hand, 
And  leading,  some  have  feared,  to  No-Man's- 

Land !  — 
Though  ever  overhead  the  heavens  were  blue ! 

Yea,  and  God's  winds  have  kissed  the  prow  through 

all, 

Till  crew  and  steersman  feel  the  chilly  air 
Grow  warm  at  last,  and  thus  have  strength  to  cope 

With  what  may  yet  remain  of  tidal  wall. 
Far  in  the  wake  has  faded  Point  Despair ; 
Yonder,  ahead,  looms  up  the  cape,  Good  Hope. 


OCCASIONAL    SONNETS  281 

ii 
TWENTY  YEARS  TO  COME 

On  shore  —  oh,  hungry  eyes  with  yearning  gaze  ! 
On  shore  —  oh,  eager  and  beseeching  cries  ! 
"Sail  on,  you  sailors,  where  high  dreams  arise," 
They  call,  "  and  bring  us  to  the  better  days  ! 

We  droop  amid  these  sordid  works  and  ways, 
Where  social  greed,  and  hungering  for  the  skies, 
Becloud  men's  sight  to  Being's  loftiest  prize ! 
Sail  on,  till  entered  are  God's  palm-fringed  bays ! " 

Yea,  gallant  barque !  though  twenty  years  you  sail, 
Add  twenty  more,  and  twenty  more  to  that, 
And  hungry  eyes  on  shore  shall  follow  still ! 

For  yet  shall  spirits  faint,  and  faces  pale, 

And  many  a  human  dream  fall  prone  and  flat, 
Ere  we  have  fathomed  truly  God's  high  will. 


282  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 


THE    LOYAL   TRAITOR 

[  To  RAYMOND  L.  BRIDGMAN,  author  of  the  novel  with  the 
title,  "Loyal  Traitors." — 1903] 

"  He  means  it  well,"  with  smile  (or  frown)  they  say, — 
"  But,  lack  !  he  carries  his  '  reform  '  too  far. 
One  fails  of  wisdom  who  o'erleaps  the  bar 
Which  prudent  hands  have  stretched  athwart  the 
way. 

A  yard  or  two  if  you  would  run,  you  may : 
But  if  you  race  to  lengths  unpopular 
Your  zeal  offends.     Who  would  his  cause  not  jar, 
In  reason's  middle  vantage-ground  must  stay." 

Oh,  weak,  who  make  a  "  middle  ground  "  for  Right ! 
And  doubly  weak  who,  seeing  valor  wield 
The  axe  to  topple  Wrong,  would  dull  the  blade  ! 

Who  loves  his  land,  against  that  land  must  fight 
If  she  be  tyrant ;  —  traitor  if  he  yield 
While  prostrate  Liberty  is  bound  and  flayed. 


REDEEM    YOURSELF,    O    LAND! 

[1903] 

"  For  what  avail  the  plow  or  sail, 
Or  land  or  life,  if  freedom  fail  ? " 

—  Emerson. 

America,  you  need  fraternal  sight ! 

The  man  or  State  that  lives  to  self  alone 
Acquires  no  record  on  enduring  stone 
Enwreathed  with  amaranth,  with  laurel  dight. 


OCCASIONAL  SONNETS  283 

Redeem  yourself,  O  Land  !     Remove  the  blight 
You  fasten  on  the  brave,  whose  valiant  tone 
Through  tyrant  years  has  made  their  passion  known 
For  liberty  and  larger  love  and  right. 

Alas,  how  meagre  just  to  offer  bread  !  — 

And  yet  their  wounds  we  still  must  strive  to  heal, 
Must  recompense  with  good  their  fearful  ill. 

Nor  is  it  yet  too  late  to  crown  their  dead  — 
To  snatch  their  banner  from  our  chariot -wheel 
And  raise  it  upon  Freedom's  holy  hill. 


FIVE    TIMES 

[1898-1903] 

Five  times  the  sun  his  all-forgiving  course 
Has  rounded  since  the  strife  and  tears  began. 
It  never  entered  darkest  dream  of  man 
That  Liberty's  sweet  fountain  at  its  source 

So  long  should  sullied  be ;  that  Greed  and  Force 
Should  march  victorious  in  Mercy's  van, 
Eclipse  the  strength  the  world  rejoiced  to  scan, 
And  face  us  back  to  Russian  and  to  Norse. 

Alas  !  we  cannot  raise  the  countless  dead  : 

The  mango  moans  above  them.     Yet  take  heart 
Their  dream  may  yet  irradiate  their  shore ! 

Or  shall  we  still,  with  Freedom's  spirit  fled, 
Refuse  to  recognize  our  holy  part, 
And  in  Repentance'  face  still  shut  the  door  ? 


284  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

FINISHED 

[Epilogue  to  a  collection  of  poems.  —  December,  1880] 

The  year  is  finished  —  finished  is  the  book. 

The  year  was  full  of  days,  for  good  or  ill. 

It  summoned  us  the  fleeting  hours  to  fill 

With  noble  deeds.     Long  hours  in  dale  and  nook, 
Where  haunted  pines  their  odorous  needles  shook, 

Where  fern  and  flower  their  dewy  fragrance  spill, 

It  gave  for  our  delight.     'T  is  dying  !     Still, 

New  years  remain !     With  fervor  let  us  look 
To  make  them  really  ours.  —  And  you,  my  page  ! 

As  years  are  full  with  hours,  so  you  with  songs ! 

Oh,  happy  I  if  on  your  friendly  way 
You  give,  perchance,  to  eager  youth  and  age 

Some  sight  of  largeness  that  to  life  belongs, 

Some  vision  luring  to  a  better  day. 


ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

VI.     IN  ME  MORI  AM 


THE    DEAD    STUDENT1 

[1882] 

i 
With  hearts  enchained,  and  grateful,  keen  delight, 

We  gazed  into  the  mid-September  sky ;  - 
A  new  star,  then  im-named,  intense  and  bright, 

Rising,  had  met  our  eye. 

Nightly  we  watched  the  fair,  ascending  orb, 
More  beautiful,  more  luminous  each  hour. 

Never  did  other  sun  our  souls  absorb 
With  more  supernal  power. 

Six  fleeting  months  it  gleamed  —  until  its  rise 
Was  looked  for,  and  we  grew  to  love  its  beams. 

And  then  —  as  suddenly  as  the  swift  lightning  flies, 
As  break  the  mountain  streams  — 

1  Wentworth  Brooks  Robbins,  aged  19  :  a  student  at  Tufts  College. 

285 


286  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

There  loomed  a  cloud  above  the  horizon's  bar, 
Which,  while  we  groaning  gazed  into  the  night, 

Enshrouded  all  the  scene,  and  hid  the  star 
Forever  from  our  sight. 

And  hid  the  star  ?     Yea,  hid  to  outward  gaze, 
Though  still  in  dreams  it  in  full  beauty  glows, 

Gleaming  with  richer,  more  refulgent  rays 
Than  when  it  first  arose. 

ii 

Upon  the  surface  only,  wild  with  glee, 

The  white  waves  dance  with  all  the  winds  that  blow  ; 
They  only  learn  the  secrets  of  the  sea 

Who  fathom  far  below. 

To  those  who  knew  him  least,  he  may  have  seemed  — 
That  comrade  whom  with  many  tears  we  mourn  — 

Like  one  who  lived  for  sport ;  who  never  dreamed 
He  for  aught  else  was  born. 

You  never  knew  him  as  you  should  have  known, 
You  who  would  judge  him  with  a  judgment  thus  : 

A  tenderer  heart  throbbed  never  than  his  own, 
Nor  more  magnanimous. 

And  not  in  vain  he  lived,  though  brief  his  day. 

His  blithesome  heart  oft  stole  away  our  care ; 
Long  in  our  lives  his  influence  will  stay, 

Blessing  us  unaware. 


IN    MEMORIAM  287 

in 
The  April  morning  wore  a  cloudy  veil ; 

Across  the  mountain-tops  gray  vapors  passed. 
Weeping  for  him  who  prostrate  lay  and  pale, 

The  sleet  and  rain  fell  fast. 

But  with  the  noon  the  sky  no  longer  grieved, 
The  sunlit  earth  grew  luminous  and  bright ; 

Even  the  upheaved  sod  —  for  him  upheaved  — 
Grew  golden  in  the  light. 

With  slow  sad  steps  we  bore  him  to  the  grave, 
While  on  his  pall  the  flowers  and  smilax  lay ; 

And  wept  we  that  a  soul  like  his  should  have 
No  longer  life  than  they. 

But  beautiful  it  was,  if  he  must  die, 

To  reach  his  rest  in  such  a  time  and  scene, 

Mourned  by  such  tender  love,  and  brought  to  lie 
Beneath  such  sky  serene. 

And  there  we  left  him  —  where  he  oft  had  roved 
To  greet  at  morn  each  mountain's  purple  dome ; 

In  constant  sight  of  the  dear  hills  he  loved, 
His  happy  summer  home.1 


1  Keene,  New  Hampshire  ;  Grand  Monadnock  and  other  summits 
rising  a  few  miles  away. 


288  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


LEWIS    G.   JANES1 

[  Read  at  the  Memorial  Service  at  the  Ole  Bull  Studio  House, 
Cambridge,  September  8,  1901  ] 

Not  waiting  for  the  evening's  shades  to  swell, 
Sometimes  at  noon  she  rings  her  curfew-bell  — 
The  solveless  Mother  of  whose  "  hours  "  we  prate, 
Though  in  her  years  is  neither  soon  nor  late. 
But  though  his  dust  lies  now  amid  the  flowers, 
His  thought  persists  —  his  living  words  are  ours. 

His  living  words  are  ours,  and  show  the  way 
To  Freedom  and  to  earth's  more  glorious  day ; 
His  potent  words  —  with  manly  impulse  fraught, 
And  pointing  to  the  ever-widening  Ought ! 
His  solvent  words  —  with  Nature's  meaning  rife, 
And  throbbing  with  the  true  eternal  life. 

He  asked  the  universe  for  what  it  had, 
And  held  its  tenure  to  be  good,  not  bad. 
In  ferns  and  fauna  he  read  things  To  Be ; 
The  stars  held  strains  of  secret  minstrelsy. 
He  loved  her  much,  and  Nature  did  not  mock, 
But  fed  him  manna  even  from  the  rock. 

But  higher  yet  he  sought  his  loftier  theme, 
And  roved  in  earth's  best  groves  of  Academe. 


1  1844-1901.     President  of  various  scientific,  ethical,  and  literary 
societies  ;  author,  lecturer,  philosopher. 


IN    MEMORIAM  289 

The  wisdom  of  the  Past  he  made  his  own  — 
Whatever  man  had  dreamed,  or  guessed,  or  known, 
And  with  the  scholar's  grace  and  sage's  art 
Laid  bare  its  promise  for  the  human  heart. 

Around  his  board  he  gathered  with  delight 
The  dusky  face  with  Eastern  radiance  bright, 
The  traveled  seer  from  Europe's  groaning  lands, 
The  Islander  outstretching  hopeful  hands ; 
And  from  the  lips  of  each  and  all  he  heard 
The  world's  one  searching,  all-embracing  Word. 

That  Word  was  Freedom  !  and  he  sought  to  trace 
How  freedom  might  be  won  for  all  the  race. 
For  him  no  freedom  was  while  some  were  bound ; 
Freedom  meant  Freedom  all  the  world  around. 
So,  foremost  still,  his  Word  to  us  comes  down :  — 
Freedom  for  all  men,  white  or  black  or  brown. 

And  not  alone  his  living  word  was  high  : 
His  word  was  lofty  when  he  came  to  die. 
He  spoke  of  beauty,  whispered  of  the  light, 
And  full  of  courage  entered  on  the  Night, 
Content  to  know  whatever  lay  before 
Would  be  in  line  with  Nature's  finest  store. 

His  dying  word  —  "  Still  beauty  reigns  on  earth  : 

Let  beauty  also  in  the  soul  have  birth ! " 

His  dying  word,  so  like  his  own  rich  life, 

That  sought  the  noble,  shunned  the  needless  strife, 

And  by  his  public  voice  and  private  pen 

Brought  strength  and  beauty  to  the  lives  of  men. 


290  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

O  steadfast  soul !  in  whatsoever  star 

Or  realm  of  ether  thou  to-day  afar 

Dost  wander,  —  or  unseen  beside  us  stand,  — 

The  world  still  hears  thine  accents  of  command ; 

And  as  a  ripple  widens  o'er  the  sea, 

So  yet  shall  spread  thy  faithful  ministry. 


ADONIRAM    JUDSON    PATTERSON 

1827-1909 

Faithful  follower  of  good, 

Freeman  when  the  world  was  slave ; 
Modest  where  self-seekers  stood, 

Only  first  in  strife  to  save  !  — 
Luminous,  to  seeing  eye, 
Soars  thy  spirit  to  the  sky. 

Weep  we  not  that  thou  hast  won 
Rest  at  last  from  body's  thrall ; 

Thus  serenely  sinks  the  sun, 
Answering  to  Nature's  call. 

Soul  and  sun  !  what  warmth  and  light 

Wrought  ye  both,  ere  came  the  night ! 

Feeble  to  thy  sight  and  hand 

Were  the  prizes  men  might  show ; 

Only  proud  wast  thou  to  stand 

Where  Truth's  summons  called  to  go. 

Humbly  one  of  kindred  pride 

Lays  this  laurel  at  thy  side. 


ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

VII.     EARLIER   PIECES 


CONCORD    RIVER 

My  soul  to-day, 
O  river,  wandering  seaward, 

Is  with  thee ! 

From  out  the  gray 

Of  Memory  —  hurrying  leeward 

Radiantly, 
As  in  a  dream 
Of  friends  dead  or  at  a  distance, 

I  behold 

Your  fair,  faint  gleam  ; 
And  for  your  glad  existence,  - 

Gay  with  gold 
As  where  there  waits 
Eternal  sunrise  Yonder 

At  the  gates 
Of  sapphire,  —  I 
A  grateful  prayer  do  ponder, 
Tremblingly. 

291 


292  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

O  strange,  O  mystic  stream  ! 

Slow  winding  to  the  sea  : 
Oft  in  my  nightly  dream 

Your  vision  comes  to  me ! 
Within  my  slumber  I  behold  your  placid  wave, 
And  look  with  joy  on  your  unruffled  sweep  ; 
And  with  the  answering  smile  I  crave 
You  smile  within  my  sleep. 

Oft  in  my  light-keeled  boat, 
Your  tremulous  wave  afloat, 
Your  bosom  me  has  borne, 

Your  strength  my  weakness  known, 
Till  wearying  care,  and  scorn, 

And  every  fear,  were  flown ; 
Until,  with  spell  most  magical, 
You  in  my  bosom  quelled 
All  phantoms  tragical, 
And  pain  and  doubt  dispelled, 
As  when  a  cloud  upon  your  breast  removes, 
And  down  the  sun  shines  on  the  wave  it  loves. 

Full  many  a  placid  hour 

Beside  your  edge  I  've  strayed, 
And  many  a  sylvan  bower 

Has  Fancy  there  displayed. 
Below  your  historic  Battle-Bridge  you  wander  through 

a  plain, 

There  'mid  your  wide  lone  meadow-lands  to  turn  and 
turn  again  ; 


Full  many  a  placid  hour 

Beside  your  edge  I  've  strayed, 

And  many  a  sylvan  bower 
Has  Fancy  there  displayed." 

—  Facing  page  292 


EARLIER    PIECES  293 

But  in  your  narrower,   shadier   course,  where  trees 

your  waves  o'erhang 
And  dewy  verdure  thickly  lies  as  where  the  Sirens 

sang,  — 
Here  many  a  grateful  leafy  dell 

My  feet  of  yore  have  found, 
Nor  deemed  you  had  a  parallel 
The  wide  earth  round. 

Full  oft  beside  your  vernal  banks, 
What  time  might  come  Spring's  jocund  charioteer, 

Have  I  been  mute  observer  of  the  thanks 
With  which  you  knew  earth's  natal  glories  near  — 
Rippling  in  gratitude  when  you  should  learn 
Had  come  the  blushing  violet  and  fern. 
Plashing  your  emerald  edge 

With  joyous  dew, 
You  kissed  with  welcoming  pledge 
Earth's  offerings  new. 

And  I  have  seen  your  greeting  to  the  stars, 
As  one  by  one  they  flecked  your  tranquil  floor  — 
Venus,  and  red-browed  Mars, 

And  countless  myriads  more, 
Gleaming  amid  the  eternal  height, 
The  golden  diadem  of  Night. 
And  when  unto  her  full  might  grow 

The  round  red  harvest  moon, 
The  one  above  and  one  below 

Made  midnight  mimic  noon  : 


294  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

For  mirrored  wondrously  upon  your  tide, 

Limned  by  a  brush  unseen  your  bosom  o'er, 
Stood  every  spark  amid  heaven's  arches  wide, 

And  every  moonlit  marvel  of  the  shore  : 
Each  tree  and  twig,  each  fluttering  leaf,  was  there, 

As  truly  represented  as  in  air : 
And  scarce  the  line  the  wave  and  land  between, 
So  perfect  was  the  juncture,  could  by  eye  be  seen. 

Amid  the  verdant  foliage  at  your  side, 

Unknown  to  all  the  world  but  you  and  me, 
A  countless  classic  host  have  lived  and  died, 
And  linger  now  not  e'en  in  memory. 

My  books  indeed  have  taught 
Of  many  a  fruitful  land  and  holy  age ; 

Yet  to  my  soul  with  wisdom  full  as  fraught 

Has  been  your  springtime  foliage  ! 
For  I  have  looked  through  you  as  through  a  portal, 
And  dreamed  I  met  the  gaze  of  the  Immortal ! 


EARLIER    PIECES  295 


WHITHER,   YE    STATELY   SHIPS 

Whither,  ye  stately  ships, 

In  grandeur  do  ye  ride  ? 
Oh,  do  ye  never  tremble,  dreading  dire  eclipse, 

As  silently  ye  glide 
Athwart  the  Ocean's  lips  ? 

Far  o'er  the  widening  seas 

Ye  sail  to  beauteous  lands  : 

Alike  'mid  Behring's  ice  and  Sunda's  odorous  ease 
Obedient  to  the  hands 

Which  bend  you  to  the  breeze. 

Proudly  your  course  ye  take 

Where  ne'er  before  went  keel, 
Or  follow  in  the  track  where  thirsty  myriads  slake 
The  intense  desire  they  feel 

For  far-off  loved-ones'  sake. 

Gibraltar's  frowning  rocks 

May  shadow  you  in  gloom  ; 

But  when  ye  have  outridden  the  vengeful  Equinox, 
Ye  find  deep  harbor-room 

Where  ne'er  come  tempest-shocks. 

Outward  indeed  ye  fly, 

And  farthest  oceans  trace  ; 


296  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 

But  if  ye  once  shall  gain  the  sought  Sicilian  sky, 

Homeward  ye  then  may  race 
In  gladdest  ecstasy. 

Never  a  cargo  bear 

Of  shame  or  crime,  O  ships ! 
Better  that  whirlwind  rend,  or  treacherous  waves 

insnare, 

Than  that  Contagion's  lips 
Should  taint  your  heaven-free  air. 

But  far  as  oceans  stretch, 

Or  Austral  islands  rise, 
Wing  ye  love's  message  to  the  wild  despairing  wretch 

Who,  fainting,  seeks  the  prize 
Unfound  unless  ye  fetch. 

Scorched  amid  Central  Zone, 
Crushed  by  Antarctic  ice, 
Ever,  O  stately  ships,  your  nobler  birthright  own, 

Nor  plunge,  a  sacrifice, 
With  but  a  gurgling  groan  ! 

Back  !  bring  our  sons  safe  back  ! 
Our  brothers,  lovers,  friends  ! 
We  had  not  let  them  sail  with  you  your  venturous 

track, 

But  that  our  faith  extends 
Beyond  a  drifting  wrack  ! 


EARLIER    PIECES  297 

Our  faith  in  you,  O  ships, 

Uphold  and  justify  ! 
And   firm  as  boatman  builds,  and  staunch  as  he 

equips, 

Sail  ye  an  Argosy 
That  meets  nor  dreads  eclipse ! 


THE    SORROWING   WIND 

I  sat  awaiting  one  who  did  not  come. 
Against  my  window  the  November  rain 
Pattered  a  weird  and  pitiful  refrain  : 
Never  dear  Mother  Nature's  voice  is  dumb. 
Drearily,  as  in  penitence,  the  wind 
Murmured  a  Miserere  —  had  it  sinned  ? 
Had  it  been  boisterous  upon  the  deep  ? 
Had  it  been  cruel  —  tossing  ships  about, 
And  sending  sailors  to  their  watery  sleep  ? 
With  aimless  fury  and  disastrous  rout 
Had  it  been  leveling  dim  forest  aisles, 
And  devastating  fields  for  miles  and  miles  ? 


298  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 


A  CANE    FROM    GETHSEMANE 

A  simple  cane  is  here  —  a  pilgrim  staff  : 

Yet  on  its  polished  face, 
In  quaintly  graven  Hebrew  paragraph, 

A  sacred  name  I  trace. 

"  Gethsemane  :  Mount  Olivet."     The  phrase 

Bespeaks  the  favored  earth 
Where,  ages  since,  —  in  unremembered  days,  — 

Its  sacred  tree  had  birth. 

A  traveler  brought  it  —  fragrant  with  the  air 

Of  that  clear  Syrian  sky. 
"  Here,  friend,"  he  said,  "  the  staff  is  yours  ;  you  care 

For  such  things  more  than  I." 

I  hold  it  in  my  hand,  as  here  I  sit, 

And  musing  close  my  eye  ; 
And  far  and  fast  doth  subtle  Fancy  flit, 

Imagination  fly. 

In  shorn  Gethsemane,  to  this  far  day, 

Is  shown  the  grotto  wild 
Where  Abraham  prepared  the  wood  to  slay 

Isaac  his  first-born  child. 

Here  David,  harp  in  hand,  from  yonder  hills 

His  native  Bethlehem  nigh, 
Oft  wandered  with  his  sheep,  the  rippling  rills 

And  quiet  waters  by, 


EARLIER    PIECES  299 

And  rested,  sweeping  with  his  hand  the  strings 

Melodious  with  praise, 
Laying  his  head  upon  these  rootlets'  rings, 

Lit  by  the  sun's  last  rays. 

Here  Solomon  had  come,  with  timbrels,  flutes, 

And  cymbals  clashing  loud  ; 
With  solemn  sackbuts,  fifes,  and  silvery  lutes, 

In  royal  garments  proud  ; 

With  damsels  rich  in  dyes  from  Tyrian  shore ; 

Playing  at  games  of  chance ; 
Laughing  to  see  upon  the  leafy  floor 

The  Jewish  maidens  dance. 

Here  Philip's  son,  great  Alexander,  came, 

His  hands  with  slaughter  wet, 
And  bowed  himself  before  the  jeweled  flame 

Of  priestly  coronet. 

The  god  of  Macedon  was  Mars  the  Red, 

His  empire  on  increase : 
The  God  of  Shiloh's  olives  overhead 

Here  gently  whispered,  "  Peace  !  " 

Here  Jesus,  Joseph's  son,  a  mightier  king, 

Weighed  down  with  woes  of  men, 
Came  praying  he  perchance  their  lives  might  bring 

To  God  and  Heaven  again. 

Here  too,  while  his  disciples  slept,  he  sweat 
As  it  were  drops  of  blood  — 


300  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

His  brow,  in  agony,  already  wet 
With  Friday's  crimson  flood. 

And  here  the  Angel  came,  in  raiment  white, 

To  strengthen  him  and  bless, 
Making  a  Bethel  of  the  darksome  night, 

And  joy  of  his  distress. 

Here  Judas,  jeering,  brought  the  priestly  crowd 

With  lanterns,  swords,  and  staves  — 
His  thirty  silver  pieces  jingling  loud 

And  murmuring  "  Paupers'  graves  !  " 

Here  Titus  came,  and  with  his  army  vast 

Uprooted  every  tree. 
Thy  glory  then,  Jerusalem,  was  past ! 

And  thine,  Gethsemane ! 

But  ere  that  fatal  hour,  the  cane  I  hold 

Was  plucked  from  off  its  tree, 
And  down  through  monkish  cloisters  dim  and  old 

At  last  has  come  to  me. 

This  very  bough,  perhaps,  its  portion  gave 

For  Abraham's  altar  fire, 
When  sadly  building  —  deeming  naught  could  save  — 

His  first-born's  funeral-pyre. 

This  very  bough  —  who  knows  ?  —  the  bough  may  be 

That  sheltered  David's  lambs  ; 
Beneath  which  Solomon,  the  Wise,  in  glee 

Made  proverb-epigrams ; 


EARLIER    PIECES  301 

That  Alexander  bowed  beneath  ;  that  he 

Of  Nazareth  sought  for  prayer  ; 
That  worn  disciples  brushed  ;  that  treachery. 

Sought  out  and  made  a  snare.   .  .  . 

O  sacred  bough  !  from  thy  long  history 

Some  lesson  I  would  learn  ! 
Would  that  from  thee  some  heavenly  mystery 

Within  my  soul  might  burn  I 


THE   VIOLET 

I  met  within  the  wilding  wood 

A  violet  nodding  in  a  dell : 
Its  bud  was  blue,  its  stalk  was  green  ; 

And  now  when  I  would  tell 
The  story  of  that  simple  flower 

There  rises  to  my  view 
A  perfect  picture  of  the  scene  — 
The  nodding  violet's  stalk  of  green, 

Its  flower  of  lovely  blue. 
In  all  the  world  was  never  seen 
A  bluer  blue,  a  greener  green. 

I  met  within  the  city  street 
A  darling  little  blue-eyed  girl : 

Her  eye  was  bright,  her  step  was  light, 
And  on  her  brow  a  curl 

Of  fairest,  purest  gold  hung  free. 


302  ADDITIONAL    POEMS 

With  smiles  she  looked  at  me ! 
Her  heart,  dear  child !  was  light  as  air, 
As  free  as  air  from  sorrow.     There 

Could  never,  surely,  be 
A  step  more  light,  an  eye  more  blue, 
A  soul  more  innocent  or  true. 

A  few  short  days  —  alas  !  alas  ! 

I  met  her  in  the  street  no  more. 
I  know  not  how  it  came  to  pass, 

But  knocking  at  my  door 
One  evening  as  I  writing  sat, 

Approached  a  little  boy  — 
Her  brother  —  who  beside  my  knee 
Bewailed  and  wept  so  piteously 

That  it  would  needs  employ 
A  power  beyond  my  tenderest  art 
To  hush  the  turbulence  of  his  heart. 

I  clasped  him  in  my  close  embrace : 

His  burning  cheeks  with  tears  were  wet. 
To  mine  he  raised  his  mournful  face  — 

Ah !  ne'er  shall  I  forget 
The  hope,  the  doubt,  the  keen  despair 

That  mantled  in  his  eye. 
I  still  can  hear  him  importune : 
"  Oh,  —  say  she  will  be  better  soon  ! 

Tell  me  she  will  not  die !  " 
My  heart  could  not  deny  the  boon  : 
"  Ah,  yes  !  "  I  said  —  "  be  better  soon." 


EARLIER    PIECES  303 

I  hastened  to  the  wilding  wood, 

And  sought  the  violet  in  the  dell, 
Whose  bud  was  blue,  whose  stalk  was  green. 

I  surely  need  not  tell 
Upon  whose  breast,  within  whose  hand, 

The  flower  was  shortly  seen. 
She  on  itspetals  looked,  and  smiled ; 
Upon  the  bud  of  blue,  poor  child ! 

And  on  the  stalk  of  green. 
And  then  she  closed  her  bright  blue  eyes, 
And  flew  afar  to  Paradise. 

Upon  her  breast,  within  her  hand, 

The  violet  still  was  seen  — 
The  violet  with  its  bud  of  blue, 

Its  stalk  of  brilliant  green  — 
When  robed  for  Fairyland  she  lay. 

I  doubt  not  when  in  love 
The  angels  met  her,  and  her  eyes 
Beheld  the  blooms  of  Paradise, 

Were  none  more  fair  above ! 
Nor  there  in  heaven  might  angels  view 
A  soul  than  hers  more  pure  and  true. 


304  ADDITIONAL   POEMS 


ALL   AS    ONE 

[  Early  fragment  ] 

Not  greatly  distant  from  the  sounding  sea 
Beside  whose  edge  I  frequent  wend  my  way, 
An  ancient  forest,  deep  and  silent,  lies  — 
Reputed  home  of  nymph  and  woodland  fay. 
Verdant  primeval  arches  rise  o'erhead, 
And  hide  the  earth  from  sunlight  and  the  sky ; 
And  drooping  mosses  hang  from  every  limb  — 
Gauze  curtains  swaying  in  the  east  wind's  sigh. 

The  hemlock  and  the  pine  are  brothers  here  ; 
Their  branches  they  in  mutual  friendship  wield, 
And  when  the  winter  blasts  and  snows  appear, 
Each  strives  the  other  from  the  storms  to  shield. 
Oh,  would  that  men  might  here  a  lesson  learn, 
And  all  as  one  their  strength  and  faith  compare, 
That  when  were  nigh  the  fitful  storms  of  life 
The  strong  the  burdens  of  the  weak  might  bear. 


L'ENVOI:     METEORS 

I  sit  in  the  gloom 

Of  my  evening  room 

On  the  hilltop  high,  and  gaze  on  the  tomb 

Of  darkness  which  covers  earth's  beauty  and  bloom. 

O'er  the  river's  gray  track 

Rise  the  hillslopes  black  — 

Like  peddlers,  each  holding  a  house  for  a  pack, 

Or  like  Atlas  of  old,  with  the  town  on  their  back. 

In  the  northern  sky, 

From  their  throne  on  high, 

Fair  meteors  flash  on  the  wondering  eye, 

And  fall  into  darkness,  and  fail,  and  die : 

Fall  suddenly  down, 

With  the  gleam  of  a  crown, 

To  fade  in  the  mists  and  the  shadows  brown 

Which  hazily  hang  over  meadow  and  town. 

The  villagers  sleep : 
Over  valley  and  steep 

Not  a  household  light  breaks  the  darkness  deep : 
The  pale  stars  only  their  vigils  keep. 

305 


306  L' ENVOI:     METEORS 

But  look  !  through  the  night 

(Where  a  meteor  bright 

Just  vanishing  seemed  to  fall  in  its  flight) 

There  shines  in  a  window  a  welcoming  light !  — 

A  scintillant  glare, 

Rich,  luminous,  rare,  — 

As  if  when  the  meteor  vanished  in  air 

It  charmed  a  new  star  into  radiance  there ! 

—  O  soul  of  mine  ! 
When  the  Angel  Divine 

Shall  summon  thee  swift  to  a  region  benign,  — 
Shall  summon  thee  swift,  and  thou  follow  his  sign, 

Thou  wouldst  not  ask  more 

Than  some  heart  on  life's  shore 

Grow  bright  with  a  gleam  of  thy  vanishing  lore  — 

Grow  bright  with  a  lustre  undreamed  of  before. 


INDEX    OF   TITLES 


Accelerant,  37 

Across  the  Line:  At  Fifty,  146 

Admiration  of  World-Helpers, 
In,  56 

After  a  Week  with  a  Wood- 
chopper,  125 

Age  of  Good,  The,  75 

All  as  One,  304 

Alpha  and  Omega,  39 

And  Last  of  All  I  Learn  It,  137 

Angel,  The  Loveliest,  148 

At  Spruce-Tree,  279 

At  the  Summit,  127 

At  the  Turn  of  the  Road,  203 

Baby  of  the  Twentieth  Century, 

To  a,  38 

Beacon-Lights,  87 
Beauty,  Ideal,  133 
Beauty,  Life's,  105 
BELLS  OF  COMO,  THE,  207 
Birch,  The  Silver,  189 
Birches,  Vine  and,  187 
Birthday,  For  a,  261 
Blake,  James  Vila,  To,  277.    (See 

also,  "  Seventy,"  274) 
Blue  Hills  in  November,  In  the, 

I.,  II.,  182-183 
BLUE  HILLS  RESERVATION, 

SONNETS  OF  THE,  181-192 
Body  and  Spirit,  155 
Bon  Voyage,  264 
"  Breath  from  the  Fields,  A,"  150 
Bridgman,   Raymond   L.  (  "  The 

Loyal  Traitor"),  282 
Burial-Ground,  In  a  Country,  256 
By  Dark  or  Light,  168 
By  the  Dark-Bright  River,  204 

Cane  from  Gethsemane,  A,  298 
Cape  Ann,  On,  175 
Causation,  144 

Charles,  On  Crossing  the,  at  Its 
Mouth,  172 


Chickatawbut,  To  a  Hemlock  on, 

191 
Children,  To  My,  on  Their 

Marriage  Day,  268 
Children's  Children,  57 
Christmas,  Merry,  262 
Christmas   ("Then  Felt   I   Like 

Some  Watcher  of  the  Skies," 

262) 

Clown,  Sage  and,  114 
Coin  in  Any  Realm,  102 
College  Hill,  254 
College  Hill,  Moonlight  on,  251 

(See  also,  Tufts  College) 
COMO,  THE  BELLS  OF,  207 
Comrades,  171 
Concord  River,  291 
Confessions  of  a  Voluptuary,  107 
Courage,  O  Workers  I  49 
Creators,  The  New,  54 
Crosby,  Ernest,  Meditation  After 

the  Passing  of,  60 
Cross,  Star  and,  76 
Crosses,  Self-Made,  143 
Cypress-Crowned,  119 

Daffodils,  152 

Dark-Bright  River,  By  the,  204 

Dayspring,  The,  53 

Day  Unto  Day,  235 

Dead  Student,  The,  285 

Dear  Mother  Earth,  176 

Death  of  My  Friend  :   The  Old 
Year,  265 

Death,  The  Kiss  of,  194 

(See  also,  POEMS  OF  THE  IM 
MORTAL  HOPE,  193-206) 

December  Hilltops,  192 

Deeds,  Words  and,  116 

Deeper  and  Higher,  71 

Detritus,  I.-IV.,  58-60 

Devil  of  Drink,  The,  116 

Dragon-Fly,  Sonata  of  the,  153 

Dream,  The  Schoolmaster's,  242 


307 


308 


INDEX    OF   TITLES 


Dream-Counsel,  117 
Dream-Prophecy,  55 
Drink,  The  Devil  of,  116 

EARLIER  PIECES,  291-304 

Earth  at  Play,  The,  170 

Earth,  Dear  Mother,  176 

Earth's  Golden  Prime  Lies  In 
finitely  On,  65 

Easter,  266 

Eastward  Windows,  204 

Eddowes,  Harold  ("  In  Quest  to 
Know")*  278 

Enchanted  Ground,  168 

Entombed,  63 

EPIC  OF  MAN,  THE,  27 

Evangel,  The  New,  77 

Exemplar,  174 

"  Fields,  A  Breath  from  the,"  150 

Finished,  284 

Five  Times,  283 

Foils,  I.,  II.,  138-139 

For  a  Birthday,  261 

Forelooking,  120 

Forever  On,  103 

Free  Religion  (  "  The  Liberty 

Wherewith  We  are  Made 

Free"),  74 
Future  Life  (see  POEMS  OF  THE 

IMMORTAL  HOPE,  193-206) 
Futures,  102 

Gain  Still  the  Goal,  186 
Gethsemane,  A  Cane  from,  298 
God  and  Man,  72 
God,  In  the  name  of,  76 
God,  My,  —  To  Truth,  69 
God's  Mariners,  I,  II.,  280-281 
God's  True  Word,  Man's  Best 

Word,  73 
Good,  Loftier,  84 
Good  Shall  Conquer,  Never 

Fear,  51 

Good,  The  Age  of,  75 
"  Good-Bye,"  259 
Gone,  201 
Great,  The,  43 
Gull  and  Wave,  174 


Hancock  Hill,  On,  183 
Hardness,  To  Prize  Life's,  129 
HEART  OF  YOUTH,  227 
Heart's  Treasures,  136 
Hemlock,  A  Spray  of,  173 
Hemlock  on  Chickatawbut, 

To  a,   191 
Heredity,  144 
Hills  of  Morning,  170 
Hilltops,  December,  192 
Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell  ("  The 

Laughing  Philosopher"),  no 
Hours  of  Insight,  132 
How  Sing'st  Thou,  Then?  130 
HUMAN  PROGRESS,  POEMS  OF, 

3-64  . 
Humanity,  The  Wail  of  Low,  47 

Ideal  Beauty,  133 

I  Feel  that  I  Know  Her,  238 

IMMORTAL  HOPE,  POEMSJ;OF 

THE,  193-206 

In  a  Country  Burial-Ground,  256 
In  Admiration  of  World-Helpers, 

56 

In  Grateful  Love,  267 
In  Quest  to  Know,  278 
In  Secret,  80 
In  Suburban  Woods,  166 
In  the  Blue  Hills  in  November, 

I.,  II.,  182-183 
In  the  Name  of  God,  76 
"In  Thy  Youth,"  104 
In  Treetop  Land,  149 
In  Vacation,  167 
In  Wildcat  Notch,  184 
In  Wonder  Ever}'  Hour,  184 
Indian  Summer,  181 
Insight,  Hours  of,  132 
Inward  Fires,  113 
"I  Will  Lay  Mine  Hand  Upon 

My  Mouth,"  89 

Janes,  Lewis  G.,  288 
Joy  in  One's  Work,  130 
Justice!  Freedom!  48 

Kiss  of  Death,  The,  194 
Known  of  Old,  205 


INDEX    OF   TITLES 


309 


"  Laborers  Together,"  82 
Last  of  all  I  Learn  It,  And,  137 
Laughing  Philosopher,  The,  no 
L'ENVOI :    Meteors,  305 
Liberty  Wherewith  We  Are 

Made  Free,  The,  74 
Life,  Religion  as  a,  88 
Life's  Beauty,  105 
Life's  Hardness,  To  Prize,  129 
Life's  Meaning,  98 
LIVING,  POEMS  OF,  93-148 
Loftier  Good,  84 
"  Look  Back  at  Times,"  269 
Love,  When  Young  Hearts,  237 
Love's  Predicament,  257 
Loved  and  Gone,  The,  195 
Loveliest  Angel,  The,  148 
Lowell,  James  Russell,  56 
Loyal  Traitor,  The,  282 

Man,  God  and,  72 

MAN,  THE  EPIC  OF,  27 

Man  on  the  Mountain,  The,  131 

Man's  Best  Word  God's  True 

Word,  73 

Man's  Opportunity,  93 
MAN'S  TRIUMPH-ERA,  3 
Marriage  Day,  To  My  Children 

on  Their,  268 
Meditation  After  the  Passing  of 

Ernest  Crosby,  60 
Merry  Christmas,  262 
Meteors  (L'ENVOI),  305 
Midas  and  Musagetes,  249 
Moonlight  on  College  Hill,  251 
Mother,  The,  86 
Mother  and  Child,  276 
Mother  Earth,  Dear,  176 
Muse,  To  the,  After  Silence,  258 
My  Feathered  Preacher,  132 
Mystic  River,  157 

Nameless  Record,  The,  141 

NATURE,  POEMS  OF,  149-192 

Nature's  Foundlings,  177 

New  Creators,  The,  54 

New  Evangel,  The,  77 

No  More,  46 

Noon  in  the  Printing-Shop,  140 


"  Of  One,"  86 

Old-Time  Boys,  The,  15 

Old  Timothy  John,  245 

Old  Year,  Death  of  My  Friend : 

The,  265 
On  Board  Ship  in  Sassamon 

Notch,  1 86 
On  Cape  Ann,  175 
On  Crossing  the  Charles  at  Its 

Mouth,  172 
On  Hancock  Hill,  183 
One  with  All,  165 
Oneness,  Recognition  of,  90 
Opportunity,  Man's,  93 
O  Story-Teller!  Poet!  61 
Out  of  the  Distance,  271 

Pan,  163 

Paradise,  Soul's,  103 

Passing,  The,  199 

Path,  The,  L,  II.,  134-135 

Path  of  Sun,  The,  97 

Patterson,  A.  J.,  290 

Penalty,  258 

Pendulum,  The,  180 

Philippines,  The 
Five  Times,  283 
Loyal  Traitor,  The,  282 
Redeem  Yourself,  O  Land,  282 

Pine-Tree,  The,  190 

Platitudes,  139 

POEMS  OF  HUMAN  PROGRESS, 

3-64 

POEMS  OF  LIVING,  93-148 
POEMS  OF  NATURE,  149-192 
POEMS  OF  RELIGIOUS  PROGRESS, 

65-92 
POEMS  OF  THE  IMMORTAL  HOPE, 

193-206 
"  Prepared,"  70 

Printing-Shop,  Noon  in  the,  140 
PROEM  ("Revolve,  O  Earth"),  i 
Prophecy,  Dream-,  55 

Quatrains,  Three,  116 

Radiant  Youth  I  Knew,  A,  L,  II., 

142-143 
Rebirth,  260 


3io 


INDEX    OF   TITLES 


Reciprocation,  54 
Recognition  of  Oneness,  90 
Redeem  Yourself,  O  Land,  282 
Religion  as  a  Life,  88 
Religion,  Free  ("  The  Liberty 

Wherewith  We  are  Made 

Free"),  74 
RELIGIOUS  PROGRESS,  POEMS 

OF,  65-92 

Residuum,  1.,  II.,  62-63 
Revelation,  85 

Revolve,  O  Earth  (PROEM),  i 
Robbins,  Wentworth  Brooks 

("  The  Dead  Student  "),  285 

Sage  and  Clown,  114 
Sassamon  Notch,  On  Board  Ship 

in,  1 86 

Schoolmaster's  Dream,  The,  242 
Search,  83 
Secret,  The,  178 

Self,  To  Thine  Own,  Be  True,  92 
Self-Gratulation,  145 
Self-Illumined,  116 
Self -Made  Crosses,  143 
Sense,  Soul  and,  104 
"  Seventy,"  274 
"  Shanty,  The,"  188 
Ships,  Whither,  Ye  Stately,  295 
"  Signs  and  Wonders,"  66 
Silver  Birch,  The,  189 
Simmons,  H.  M.  ("The  Victor"), 

J35 
So  Like  the  Spring  She  Stands, 

169 

Sonata  of  the  Dragon-Fly,  153 
Song,  The  Spirit  of,  2 
Songs,  Sweetest,  are  Never  Sung, 

240 

Sorrowing  Wind,  The,  297 
Soul  and  Sense,  104 
Soul's  Paradise,  103 
Spirals,  136 
Spirit,  Body  and,  155 
Spirit  of  Song,  The,  2 
Spirit  with  Spirit,  179 
Spray  of  Hemlock,  A,  173 
Spruce-Tree,  At,  279 
Star  and  Cross,  76 


Straw,  TWTO  Wisps  of,  176 
Student,  The  Dead,  285 
Suburban  Woods,  In,  166 
Summit,  At  the,  127 
Sunrise  in  Codman  Park,  166 
Sunset  Sea,  Through  the,  123 
Sunshine,  160 

Sweetest  Songs  are  Never  Sung, 
240 

Temple,  Edward  F.  ("  Known  of 

Old  "),  205 
"  Then  Felt  I  Like  SomeWatcher 

of  the  Skies,"  262 
Three  Quatrains,  116 

Devil  of  Drink,  The 

Self-Illumined 

Words  and  Deeds 
Through  the  Sunset  Sea,  123 
Thyself  Within,  96 
Timothy  John,  Old,  245 
To  a  Baby  of  the  Twentieth 

Century,  38 
To  a  Hemlock  on  Chickatawbut, 

191 

To  James  Vila  Blake,  277 
To  My  Children  on  Their 

Marriage  Day,  268 
To  My  Old  Wheel,  172 
To  Prize  Life's  Hardness,  129 
To  the  Muse,  After  Silence,  258 
"  To  Thine  Own  Self  Be  True," 

92 

To  Truth  —  My  God,  69 
To  Yield,  64 
Traitor,  The  Loyal,  282 
Transcendent  Possibility,  The, 

!93 

Transformation,  79 
Treasures,  Heart's,  136 
Treetop  Land,  In,  149 
True  Life  of  Us,  140 
Truth,  To,  —  My  God,  69 
Tufts  College,  Poems  describing, 
delivered  at,  or  having 
relation  to : 

Bells  of  Como,  The,  207 
College  Hill,  254 
Dead  Student,  The,  285 


INDEX    OF   TITLES 


Tufts  College  (continued} 
Forelooking,  120 
Heart  of  Youth,  I.,  227 
Known  of  Old,  205  note 
Man's  Triumph-Era,  3 
Moonlight  on  College  Hill,  251 
Mystic  River,  159  note 
Old-Time  Boys,  The,  15 
Through  the  Sunset  Sea,  123 

Turn  of  the  Road,  At  the,  203 

Twentieth  Century,  To  a  Baby  of 
the,  38 

Two  Wisps  of  Straw,  176 

Ultima  Thule,  147 

Ungrasped,  95 

Up  Higher,  272 

Up  to  the  Heights,  41 

Uplifts  of  Heart  and  Will,  78 

Vacation,  In,  167 

Vanished,  The,  206 

Victor,  The,  135 

Vine  and  Birches,  187 

Violet,  The,  301 

Voluptuary,  Confessions  of  a,  107 

Wail  of  Low  Humanity,  The,  47 
War  ("No  More"),  46.     (See 
also  General  Index) 


What  Are  We  Here  For?  42 
Wheel,  To  My  Old,  172 
When  Young   Hearts  Love, 

237 

Whence  the  Glory  ?  80 
Whither,  Ye  Stately  Ships,  295 
Who  Knows  ?  196 
Wildcat  Notch,  In,  184 
Wind,  The  Sorrowing,  297 
Wings,  91 
Winter  Glory,  185 
Wonder  Every  Hour,  In,  184 
Woodchopper,  After  a  Week 

with  a,  125 

Woods,  In  Suburban,  166 
Words  and  Deeds,  116 
Work,  106 

Work,  Joy  in  One's,  130 
Workers,  Courage,  O,  49 
World- Helpers,  In  Admiration 

of,  56 
Worship,  84 

Yield,  To,  64 

YOUTH,  HEART  OF,  227 

Youth  I  Knew,  A  Radiant, 

I.,  II.,  142-143 
"Youth,  In  Thy,"  104 

Zeal,  122 


INDEX    OF    SONNETS 


Across  the  Line :  At  Fifty,  146 
And  Last  of  All  I  Learn  It, 

*37 

At  Spruce-Tree,  279 
At  the  Turn  of  the  Road,  203 

Beacon-Lights,  87 

By  Dark  or  Light,  168 

By  the  Dark-Bright  River,  204 

Causation,  144 
Children's  Children,  57 
Comrades,  171 

Dayspring,  The,  53 
Dear  Mother  Earth,  176 
December  Hilltops,  192 
Detritus,  I.,  58 
II.,  58 

III.,  59 

IV.,  59 
Dream-Prophecy,  55 

Earth  at  Play,  The,  1 70 
Eastward  Windows,  204 
Enchanted  Ground,  168 
Entombed,  63 
Exemplar,  174 

P'inished,  284 
Five  Times,  283 
Foils,  I.,  138 
II.,  138 

Gain  Still  the  Goal,  186 
God's  Mariners,  I.,  280 

II.,  280 

"  Good-Bye,"  259 
Gull  and  Wave,  174 

Heart's  Treasures,  136 

Heredity,  144 

Hills  of  Morning,  170 


Hours  of  Insight,  132 

How  Sing'st  Thou,  Then  ?  130 

Ideal  Beauty,  133 

In  a  Country  Burial  -  Ground, 

256 
In  Admiration  of  World-Helpers, 

56 

In  Quest  to  Know,  278 
In  Suburban  Woods,  166 
In  the  Blue  Hills  in  November, 
I.,  182 

II.,  182 

In  Vacation,  167 
In  Wildcat  Notch,  184 
In  Wonder  Every  Hour,  184 
Indian  Summer,  181 
"  I  Will  Lay  Mine  Hand  Upon 

My  Mouth,"  89 

Joy  in  One's  Work,  130 
Known  of  Old,  205 

Loftier  Good,  84 
Loveliest  Angel,  The,  148 
Love's  Predicament,  257 
Lowell,  James  Russell,  56 
Loyal  Traitor,  The,  282 

Man  on  the  Mountain,  The, 

Meditation  After  the  Passing  of 

Ernest  Crosby,  60 
Mother,  The,  86 
Mother  and  Child,  276 
My  Feathered  Preacher,  132 

Nameless  Record,  The,  141 
Nature's  Foundlings,  177 
New  Creators,  The,  54 
Noon  in  the  Printing- Shop, 
140 


3I2 


INDEX    OF    SONNETS 


313 


"  Of  One,"  86 

On  Board  Ship  in  Sassamon 

Notch,   1 86 
On  Cape  Ann,  175 
On  Crossing  the  Charles  at  Its 

Mouth,   172 
On  Hancock  Hill,  183 
One  with  All,  165 
O  Story-Teller!  Poet!  61 

Path,  The,  I.,  134 

II.,  134 
Penalty,  258 
Pendulum,  The,  180 
Pine-Tree,  The,  190 
Platitudes,  139 

Radiant  Youth  I   Knew,  A, 
I.,   142 

II.,  142 
Rebirth,  260 
Reciprocation,  54 
Recognition  of  Oneness,  90 
Redeem  Yourself,  O  Land,  282 
Religion  as  a  Life,  88 
Residuum,  I.,  62 

II.,  62 
Revelation,  85 

Search,  83 
Secret,  The,  178 
Self-Gratulation,  145 


Self-Made  Crosses,  143 

"Shanty,  The,"  188 

Silver  Birch,  The,  189 

So  Like  the  Spring  She  Stands, 

169 

Spirals,  136 
Spirit  with  Spirit,  1 79 
Spray  of  Hemlock,  A,  173 
Sunrise  in  Codman  Park,  166 

To  a  Hemlock  on  Chickatawbut, 

191 

To  James  Vila  Blake,  277 
To  My  Old  Wheel,  172 
To  Prize  Life's  Hardness,  129 
To  the  Muse,  After  Silence, 

258 
"  To  Thine  Own  Self  be  True," 

92 

To  Yield,  64 
True  Life  of  Us,  140 
Two  Wisps  of  Straw,  176 

Ultima  Thule,  147 

Vanished,  The,  206 
Victor,  The,  135 
Vine  and  Birches,  187 

Wings,  91 
Winter  Glory,  185 
Worship,  84 


GENERAL    INDEX 


References  to  birds,  flowers,  trees,  stars,  mountains,  rivers, 
and  to  a  few  other  topics,  are  grouped  ] 


Abraham,  298,  300 

Academe,  16,  19,  288 

Achilles,  1 16 

Act  vs.  good  intention,  116 

Adam  and  Eve,  91 

Adventure,  91,  92,  121,  235,  280- 

281  (see  discovery) 
yEschylus,  5 
^sop,  1 60 
Affection,  4,  16,  169,  274,  277  (see 

love,  friendship,  brotherhood, 

good  will  to  men) 
Age,  golden  (see  golden  age) 
Age  of  good  (see  good  on  earth) 
Age,  old  (see  old  age) 
Agriculture,  i,  23,  30,  58,  99,  125 

130,  176 

Alexander  the  great,  43,  64,  299 
Alma  Mater,  17 
Alps,  4,  25,  44,  218,  254 
Ambition,  6,  16,  18,  78,  86,  273 
America,  I,  6,  24,  27,  282 
Anarchist,  the,  20 
Anarchy  (see  individualism) 
Angels,  12,  76,  76-77,  91, 1 06, 115 

144,  148,  198,  208  ff,  222,  237 

243,  300,  303,  306 
Angelus,  214 
Animals  —  chipmunk,  125,  152 

dog,  1 1 1 

flocks  and  herds,  108 

fox,  181,  185 

lion,  135 

lizard,  40 

rabbit,  hare,  33,  142,  185,  228 

serpent,  135 

sheep,  1 08,  298,  300 

squirrel,  125,  152,  173,  184,  228 

tiger,  20 

wildcat,  184 

wolf,  184 


Antarctic,  197,  296 

Anthropos,  20,  25 

Anti-imperialism,  24,  282-3,  2^9 

Apocalypse,  252 

Apollo  (Phoebus),  168,  234 

Apollo's  pipe,  8 

Appreciation,  242-244,  277   (see 

praise  and  blame) 
April,  174,  177,  287 
Arabia,  154 
Arbela,  64 
A  ready,  211 

Arctic,  i,  4,  49,  186,  217 
Ariadne's  clue,  7 
Arimathea,  Joseph  of,  77 
Arlington  Heights,  123,  228 
Art,  i,  21,  38,  45,  63,  109,   113 

130,  176,  208  (see  sculpture) 
Aryans,  30 
Asia,  43,  64,  136 
Asphodel,  148  (see  flowers) 
Aspiration,  8,  20,  23,  26,  34,  40 

41,    80,   84,  90,  112,  131,   132 

133,  146,  209,  225,  229,  276,  281 

284  (see  moral  ideal ;  beauty) 
Assizi,  Francis  of,  45 
Aster,  80,  154,  156,  183,  245 
Astrology,  13 
Athens,  220 

Atlantic  ocean,  153,  172 
Atlas,  305 
Attica,  7,  163 
August,  181 
Aurelius,  Marcus,  45 
Austral  islands,  296 
Autumn,  10,  68,  123,  180 
Avarice,  20,  57,  88,  146,  149,  249- 

250,  281  (see  greed,  selfishness, 

wealth,  money) 
Avocation  and  vocation,  5 
Azrael,  148,  306 


GENERAL    INDEX 


315 


Babylon,  9,  168 

Baffin's  bay,  186 

Balkan  massacres,  57 

Ballou,  Hosea,  228 

Bank,  a  sure,  127 

Beach,  49-50,  87,  93,  124,  153- 

155,  158,  172,  174,  175,  184(866 

harbors,  lighthouses,  sea,  ships, 

shore,  sailors,  waves,  ocean) 
Bear  Indian  tribe,  58 
Beauty,  ideal,  105,  133,  289 

of  life  (see  life ;  moral  ideal) 

of  Nature  (see  Nature) 
Bedford  gaol,  188 
Bee,  19,  144,  152,  165,  183 
Beggar's  bowl,  167,  178 
Behring's  straits,  295 
Belgium  and  Congo,  24 
Bermudas,  49 
Bethel,  300 

Bethlehem,  172,  219,  298 
Beulah,  161,  173 

Bible,   10,  67,  74,   85,   123,   124 
(see  revelation) 

of    Nature,   67,    85,    288    (see 

Nature) 

Bibles,  origin  of,  83,  85 
Bicycling,  107,  172 
Birch-tree  (see  trees) 
Birds  (unspecified),  12,  35,  49,  86 
94-95,    115,    129,    132,    140 
146,  1 60,  163-164,  1 66,  183 
192,  199,  259,  266 

bluebird,  177 

bluejay,  167 

bobolink,    107,    151,    158,    160 
172,  229,  230,  266 

bobwhite  (quail),  171 

chickadee,  182,  185 

crow,  229,  272 

dove,  232,  234 

flicker,  169 

gull,  119,  121,  158,  173,  174 

hawk,  154,  1 86 

mockingbird,  237 

meadow  (song)  sparrow,  2,  178 

oriole,  49,  154 

ovenbird,  184 

partridge,  185,  228 


160 


Birds  (continued) 

robin,  2,  19,  107,  149,  1^1 
163,  167,  169,  254,  256 

snowbird,  185 

swallow,  119,  167 

thrush,  55,  158 

veery,  184 

vulture,  7,  44,  142,  230 

whip-poor-will,  19,  252 

wild  geese,  192 

yellowbird,  154 
Bird  -songs,  2,  12,  19,  49,  55,  94— 

95,  115,  129,  132,  140,  146,  149 

151,  158,  1  60,  163-164,  167,  171 

172,  177,  178,  184,  185,  199,  229 

230,  237,252,259,266 
Birthdays,  261,  274,  277,  280 
Blake,  James  Vila,  274,  277 
Blue  Hills,  Mass.,  167,  181-192 

228 

"Bob  White,"  171 
Boccaccio,  207 
Bodhi-tree,  167 
Body    and    spirit,    79,    155-157 

(see   soul) 
Bon  voyage,  264 
Books,  9,  15,  108,  124,  161,  172 

270,  294 
Boreal,  49,  168 
Boston  Common,  1  1  1 
Boston  harbor,  166,  184,  252 
Boyhood,  136,  154,  172-173,  174 

175,  209,  247,  267 
Brahm,  28 
Brazil,  158,  256 
Breeze,  19,  49,  115,  125,  155,  178 

185,  217,  231,  235  (see  wind) 
Bridgman,  Raymond  L.,  282 
British  grenadier,  253 
Brooks,  9,  94,  154,  163,  165,  173 

178,  183,  185,   187,  266;  Ale- 

wife    brook,    228    (see    rivers, 

streams) 
Brotherhood,  4,  7,  8,  20,  21,  22,  23 

24,  26,  32-34,  39,  46,  47-48,  50 

54,  55»  56-57,  58>6l>65>7o-7i 
75,  78,  84,  87,  88,  89,  101,  102 
109,128,  175,243-244,262,304 
(see  good  will,  friendship) 


GENERAL    INDEX 


Bryant,  125 

Buddha,  Siddartha,  45,  86,  167 

Buddhism.  219 

Bull,  Ole,  Studio  House,  288 

Bunker  Hill,  227 

Bunyan,  161,  188 

Burial-ground,  country,  256 

Buried  alive,  63 

Burns,  Robert,  45 

Caesar,  Julius,  16,  44,  141 
Caesars,  the,  63,  207 
Calculus,  4,  24 
Calypso,  225 
Canaan,  124 
Cape  Ann,  175 
Casca's  dagger-rent,  44 
Castles  in  air,  239 
Cathay,  219  (see  China) 
Caucasus,  7,  142,  229 
Causation,    29,    30,    31-34,    102 

144 

"  Cause  and  effect,"  246 
Change  and  loss,  96,  97,  130 
Chaos,    21,   55,    59,  81,  98,   107 

260 

Charles  river,  172,  228 
Cheerfulness,   97,    132,   189  (see 

contentment,  serenity,  mirth) 
Chickatawbut,  181,  185,  191 
Children,  9,  22,  23,  33,  37,  38,  42 

46,  55,  57,  62,  68,  88,  109,  112 

114-115,  131, 136-137,  146, 164 

169,  170,  204,  208,  235,  242- 

244,    247,    250,  258,  269,  276 

278,  301-303 
Children  of   Mother  Nature,   22 

87  (see  Nature) 
China,  9,  62,  219 
Christian  science  (see  mental) 
Christianity,  87 
"  Christless,"  70  (see  Jesus) 
Christmas,  262,  262-263,  275 
Church,  n,  35,  74,  76,  137,  223- 

224 

Church  councils,  76,  137 
Circe,  190,  225 
Circumstance,  33,  129,  130,   157 

(see  fate) 


City  vs.  country,  125-126,  140 
150,  156,  161,  166,  174,  177 
182,  191,  228,  254,  272-273 

Cliffs,  crags,  178,  179,  184-185 
231,  235,  239 

Clouds,  19,  115,  162,  173,  178 
184,  220,  228,  292  (see  sky) 

College  class-room  vs.  individu 
ality,  1 5  (see  individuality) 

College  friendships  4,  15-17,  222 
228-230,  255-256,  286 

College  Hill  (Tufts  College),  4 
14,  17,  120,  123,  158-159,  227- 
228,  251-253,  254-256 

Columbus,  14 

Comets,  196 

Como,  207  ff 

Commandment,  New,  65 

Concord  battle-bridge,  292 

Concord  river,  291-294 

Conflict,  life's,  121-122,  136,  185 
(see  life,  hardness,  serenity) 

Confucius,  86 

Congo,  Belgian  atrocities  in,  24 

Conquest,  6,  40,  43-44,  47,  57,  61 
147  (see  war) 

Conscience,  74,  81,  82,  84  (see 
moral  ideal) 

Consequences  (see  causation) 

Contentment,  45,  109,  120,  139 
(see  cheerfulness,  serenity) 

Convention,  social,  145,  282 

Conway,  Moncure  D.,  27 

Co-operation,  20,  33  (see  brother 
hood) 

Cornfields,  I,  99,  155,  171 

Cosmopolitanism,  21,  24,  26,  32 
56-57  (see  brotherhood) 

Cosmos,  21,  41,  59  (see  order) 

Country  vs.  city  (see  city) 

Cragfoot  spring,  185 

Creative  faculty,  5,  16,  20,  40,  54 
1 06,  137,  196  (see  inspiration) 

Creeds,  8,  9,  1 1,  32,  65,  70,  73,  74 
75,  83-85,  224   (see  dogmas, 
tradition,  revelation) 
origin  of,  83,  84,  224 

Cremation,  191 

Criticism,  the  true,  277 


GENERAL    INDEX 


317 


Crosby,  Ernest,  60 

Cross,  74,  76-77,  84,  143,  262 

in  daily  life,  97,  143,  262 
Crow  Indian  tribe,  58 
Culture,  19,  38 
Curfew-bell,  Nature's,  288 
Curtis,  George  William,  27 
Cyclades,  I 
Cyclones,  57 

Dancing,  62,  299 
Dante,  7,  43,  136,  207 
Danube,  62,  218,  256  (see  rivers) 
Darius,  64 
Darwin,  10,  45 

Daughters,  169,  194,  268,  269 
David,  298,  300 
Dead  sea,  59 

Death,  7,  16,  40,  60,  85,  102,  105 
122,  148,  162,  193-206,  222 
239,  243,  256,  264,  285-287 
288-290,  306  (see  immortal 
hope) 

preparation  for,  70 
December,  180,  187,  192,  265,  284 
Defeat  in  victory,   104,  143  (see 

victory  in  defeat) 
Deity,  86  (see  God,  gods) 
Delight  in  life  (see  life) 
Democracy  (see  brotherhood) 
Despair,  7,  51,  89,  100,  130 
Devils,  28,  29,  35,  57,  116 
Devotion,  reverence,  8,  9,  31 
Diet,  88,  1 08  (see  food) 
Disciples  of  Jesus,  299-300 
Discord,  harmony  from,  99,  130 

(see  life,  conflict) 
Discovery,  14,  106,  278,  280-281 

(see  adventure) 
Disease,  34,  106  (see  health) 
Dogma  and  interpretation,  12 
Dogmas,  8, 1 1,  66-68  (see  creeds, 

tradition) 
Doing  things,  1 6 
Dolbear,  Amos  Emerson,  10 
Domitian,  63 
Doubt,  7,  106,  124,  136 
Douglass,  Frederick,  27 
Dragon-fly,  153,  272 


Drama,  in,  178,  274,  277 
Dreams,    in    sleep,    12,    55,    117 

132,  242,  292 
metaphysical,  9,  10,  1 1,  12,  32 

63,  76,  89,  148,  224,  281 
of   the  ideal  good,   12,   18,  19 
20,  37,  41,   50,   62,   70,   129 
131,  132,  174,  281,  294 
Dress,  109,  299 
Drink,  43,  88,  114,  116 
Drudgery,  33-34,  47-4$,  49>  !o8 

122,  130  (see  work,  toil) 
Duty,  13,  31,  56,  78,  81,  101,  102 
105,  118,  128 

Earnestness,  6,  8,  9,  88,  99  (see 

zeal,  will) 
Earth  (planet),  i,  20,  39,  42,  54 

57,  59,  62,  67,  71,  88,  89,  91 

107, 109,  129,  135, 137,  160,  165 

168,  169, 177, 178, 187,  266,  287 
Earth,  Mother  (see  mother) 
Earth's  abundance  (see  Nature) 
Earth's    resources,    right    of    all 

men  to,  20,  21,  22,  23,  24,  38 

42,  50,  55,  88,  109 
Ease,  49,  92,  1 10, 1 2 1  (see  leisure) 
East  (Orient)   n,   121,   173,   176 

184,  219,  255,  289 
East  Indies,  289 
Easter,  266 
Eddowes,  Harold,  278 
Eden,  91,  101,  159,  173,  176,  214 

276 

Egypt,  9,  62,  63,  96,  124,  136,  250 
Eldorado,  279 

Electricity,  13,  23,  29,  30,  172 
Elysium,  43,  109,  132 
Emerson,  7,  27,  45,  112  (quoted, 

282) 

Enoch,  74 

Environment,  80,  138-139 
Envy,  149 
Epictetus,  45 

Equal  opportunity,  21,  22,  50,  88 
Equinox,  120,  295 
Erin,  221 

Error,  12-13,  24»  31'  T4^ 
Eschatology,  89 


GENERAL   INDEX 


Eternal  life,  quality,  34,    74,    85 
90,   96,    103,    104,    105,    132 
273,  288  (see  soul,  spirit) 
quantity  (see  otherworldliness) 
Eternity,  85,  136,  168,  196,  200 
Eugenics,  37  (see  heredity) 
Europe's  old  dynastic  slaughter 
house,  289 
Euxine,  121 

Evil,  5,  7,  11,  13,  21,  29,  48 
51,  71,  83,  84,  130  (see  life's 
tragedy) 

Evil  impulse  (see  impulse) 
Evolution,  doctrine  of,  8,  28,  39- 

40,  129  (see  man) 
Example  (see  influence) 

Faces,  i,  4,  15,  168 

Failure,  high,  118-119,  147  (see 

victory ;  see  defeat) 
Fairyland,  270,  303 
Faith,   8,  83,  84,   124,  136,   145 
146  (see  trust) 

in  good,  97,  137, 183  (see  good) 
Fame,    7,  43-46,    102,    229,    261 

(see  honors) 

Farming,  intensive,  23  (see  agri 
culture) 

Fate,  5,  7,  28,  48,  109,  119,  122 
129,  138,  142,  157,  222 

master  of,  138 
Fear,  8,  29,  34,  59,  75,  84,  85,  86 

96,  106,  124,  200 
February,  186 
Fields,  19,  42,  46,  56,  98,  126,  155 

172,  279  (see  meadows) 
Filipinos,  24,  282-283,  289 
Firefly,  155 
Flesh-eating,  108 
Floods,  57 

Flowers  (unspecified),  4,9,  13,  16 
22,  25,  55,  70,  72,  93-95,  95 
101,  103,  132,  143,  144,  146 
150,  1 60,  165,  1 66,  183,  184 
235,  266,  271,  278,  284,  287 

asphodel,  148 

aster,  80,  154,  156,  183,  245 

barberry,  229 

blackberry -vines,  182 


Flowers  (continued} 
bloodroot,  151,  177 
bluebell,  14 
burning-bush,  14,  126 
buttercup,  18,  170 
cactus,  30 
clematis,  274 
clover,  164,  272 
corn-tassels,  i,  155  (99,  171) 
cranesbill,  177,  183 
daffodil,  152 

daisy,  18,  151,  154,  170,  178 
everlasting,  245 
fern,  40,  153,  154,  155,  160,  165 

166,  182,  183,  284,  288,  293 
golden-rod,  154,  183 
gowan,  170  (see  daisy) 
grapevine,  12,  58,  187,  239,  264 

276 
grass,  10,  16,  40,  154,  161,  176 

180,  229,  254-255,  272,  279 

timothy  and  sorrel,  256 
herbs,  i,  165 
holly,  275 
hollyhock,  229 
ivy,  144 

laurel,  46,  49,  129 
lichens,  40 
lily,  n,  18,  59,  126 
maize,  155  (see  corn) 
marguerite,  151,  154  (see  daisy) 
marsh-marigold,  177 
moss,  40,  161,  184,  230,  304 
nightshade,  231,  234 
orchard-bloom,  22,  32,  151 
phlox,  229 
pink,  229 

P°PPy>  55.  8o>  l65 

primrose  (wild),  174 

rhodora,  165 

rose,  29,  30,  55,  59,  85,  88,  95 
126,  131,  142,  156,  185,  229 
238;  sweetbrier,  154 

seaweed,  157 

sedge,  153,  1 60 

simples,  i 

smilax,  287 

strawberry-blossom  (wild),  174 

sumach,  156,  176,  183,  231 


GENERAL    INDEX 


319 


Flowers  (continued} 

violet,  133,  151,  154,  161,   183 
231,  234,  271,  293,  301-303 

water-lily,  234 

windflower,  169 

witch-hazel,  182 
Food  for  the  world,  23 
Forest  (see  woods,  trees) 
Forgiveness,  5,  283 
Fossils,  67,  288 
Francis  of  Assizi,  45 
Frederick  the  great,  44 
Free  religion,  74,  75,  92,  131 
Free  Religious  Association,  27 
Freedom,  7,  8,  21,  29,  45,  48,  50 
73,  86,  91,  134,  145,  282-283 
289  (see  liberty) 

the  false,  8 

the  noble,  8,  21 
French  philosophers,  10 
Friendship,  1,4,  15,  15-16,  17,  96 

113,  117,133,  137,  151,  159,  168 

169,  171,  174,  187,  198,  205,  222 
229,  238-239,  264,  265,  271,  274 

277,  278,  279,  286  (see  brother 
hood,  affection) 
Frost-work,  136,  182,  185 
Frothingham,  O.  B.,  27 
Fruits   (unspecified),    22,   30,   33 
54,  59,   1 08,   140 

apple,  30,  in,  151 

cherry,  149 

date,  1 08 

fig,  1 08 

grape,  12,  58,  187,  276 

peach,  32,  58,  86 

plum,  149 

Future  good  on  earth  (see  good) 
Future  life  (see  immortal  hope) 

Gabriel,  148 

Galilee,  65,  70,  76,  262 

Gauls,  44 

Genius,  5,  16,  23,  24  (see  creative 

faculty) 

German  metaphysics,  10 
Germany,  239,  256,  264 
Gethsemane,  298-300 
Gibraltar,  295 


Glory,  the  modern,  45-46 
God,  7,  68,  79,  82,  83,  127 

as  the  Great  Mystery,  the  Un 
known,  28,  34,  39,  78,  80,  82 
83,85,86,88,89,97,199,281 
(see  Nature) 

as  order  and  beauty,  10,  67,  70 
85,  88,  199-200  (see  order, 
beauty) 

as  truth,  69,  73,  83  (see  truth) 
as  love,  72,  8 1,  88,  91  (see  love) 
as  glee,  199  (see  mirth) 
as  an  ideal,  6,  79,  84,   133  (see 

ideal,  ideals) 

revelation  of  in  Nature,  67,  8 1 
87,  88,  127,  288  (see  revela 
tion) 

in  man,  7,  9,  20,  29,  32,  34,  68 

71,  72,  73,  81,  82,  83,  85,  86 

89,   90,    100,    in,   200   (see 

man) 

varying  thought  concerning,  74 

83,  281 

persecution  in  the  name  of,  76 
best  service  of,  35,  79,  82,  83 

85,88 

co-operation  writh,  82,  88,  100 
Gods,  the,  5,  7,  10,  28,  29,  35,  40 

41,  58,  79,  80,  89.  175,  229 
as  ideals,  41  (see  ideal,  ideals) 
Godlike,  the,  in  the  human,  7,  9 
20,  29,  32,  41,  70,  71,  85,  90 
(see  God  in  man) 
Gold  standard,  18,  20,  61 
Golden  Age,  22,  23,  24,  65,  75 
109,    135,    266    (see    good    on 
earth) 

Golden  fleece,  9,  121 
Golden  mean,  282 
Good,  search  for,  5,  7,  n,  13,  31 

32,  223ff 

Good  on  earth,  the  growing,  7,  8 
13,  22,  23,  24,  25,  26,  29,  31,  32 

34,  35'36'37'  38~39'  40,  41,42 
45-46,  46-47,  50,  51-52,  53,  54 
54-55'  55'  56<  57'  59'  60,  62,  64 
65-66,  71,  73,  74,  75,  77,  79,  Si 
84,  100,  109,  112,  128,  134-135 
175,  266,  284,  288 


320 


GENERAL   INDEX 


Good  will  to  men,  1,4,  7,  13,  14 

21,  25,  26,  33,  37,  39,  41,  74,  88 

IOO-IOI,  IO2,  109,  I  13,  141,  144 
146,  243,  257,  260,  262,  263,  266 

271  (see  brotherhood,  love) 
Good  universe,  21,  31,  34,  85,  288 
Gospel,  the  New,  65,  77,  79 
Goths  and  Vandals,  141 
Grain,    i,  33,  46,   54,  58,  59,  68 

99,  170,   171,  176 
Grass  (see  flowers) 
Great  ones,  neglect  of,  29,  63 
Greatness,  the  true,  6,  7,  45-46 

51,  56,  60-61,  63,  77,  115,  141 

243-244,  245-248 
Greece,  5,  7,  8,  9,  219;  language 

of,  10,  ii  ;  religion  of,  87 
Greed,    20,   33,   57,  75,  100,   135 
283  (see  avarice) 

national,  283 
Gulf  of  Mexico,  23 
Gull,  119,  121,  158,  173,  174 

Hancock  Hill,  183,  192 

Happiness  (see  serenity) 

Happy  daily  work,  130-131 

Happy  man,  the,  108-110,  126 
245-248,  250 

Harbors,  bays,  87,  97,  120,  166 
174,  175,  184,  230,  241,  252,  281 
295  (see  ocean,  ships,  beach) 

Hardness,  life's,  5,  13,  20,  23,  31 
40,47,48,  50,  97,  121-122,  129 
130,  132-133,  135,  185  (see  se 
renity,  life,  Nature's  destruct 
ive  forces) 

Hate,  7,  75,  225 

Health,  22,  25,  59,  88,  108,  126 
264,  274  (see  disease) 

Heaven,  overruling  power,  5,  129 

162  (see  fate) 

abode  of  the  blest,  21,  68,  73 
84,  89,  102,  136,  176,  196,  239 
266 

ideal  good,  73,  78,  84,  96,  139 
169,  192  (see  ideal) 

Hebrew  inscription,  298 

Helicon,  94,  254 

Hell,  9,  35,  68,  8 1,  136,  139 


Helpers,  the,  16,  37,  39,  45,  48,  51 
54,  56,  60,  63,  70,  83,  100,  128 

Henley  (quoted),  138 

Herculaneum,  220 

Heredity,  37-38,  38-39,  59,  62-63 
129,  138-139,  144,  249 

Hermes,  175 

Hero-worship,  44-45,  46-47,  245 

Hesperides,  151,  152 

Higginson,  Thomas  W.,  27 

Hilltops,  i,  4,  13,  14,  25,  56,  107 
123,  129, 133,  167,  168,  169,  170 
172, 178,  179,  181-192,  203,  227 
231,  272-273,  287,  305  (see 
mountains) 

Holmes,  O.  W.,  110-112 

Holy  ground,  14,  75,  83 

Homer,  5,  125,  161 

Honors,  5,  6,  16,  46-47,  54,  99 
146,  261,  277,  290  (see  fame) 

Hope,  7,  15,  34,  68,  73,  75,  77,  96 
100,  139  (see  trust) 

Horeb,  14 

Howe,  Julia  Ward,  27 

Human  progress,  1—306  (see  life, 
man,  good  on  earth,  progress) 

Humanitarianism  (see  good  will) 

Humboldt,  45 

Ideal  Beauty,  105,  133,  289 
Ideal  man,  the,  25,  34,  41 
Ideal,  Man's  New,  126 
Ideal,  Moral  (see  moral  ideal) 
Ideals,    25,    112,    131,    132    (see 

aspiration,  heaven  iii) 
Ignorance,  5,  21,  30,  32,  55,  66,  75 

79.  87,  135 

Illinois,  169,  271,  278 
Imagination,    43,    108,    132,    140 

150,  197,  279,  292 
Immortal   hope,   the,  66,  77,  81 

102, 103, 127,  162,  193-206,  264 

278,  289,  298  (see  otherworldli- 

ness,  heaven  ii) 
Immortality,  earthly,  37-38,  38- 

39,  45,  128  (see  influence) 
Impulse,  evil,  5,  60,  129,  130,  132 

135, 136, 142-143'  H3.  23*-234 

(see  temptation,  self-control) 


GENERAL    INDEX 


321 


India,  9,  62,  63,  96,  108,  243 

Indian  Camp  Pool,  189 

Indian  summer,  181 

Indian  tribes,  58,  158,  159  «,  189 

Individualism,  the  baneful,  20,  21 

Individuality,  sacredness  of,  15 
86,  92,  96  (see  self) 

Influence,  permanence  of,  37-38 
46,  58-60,  61,  62-63,  99>  IO3 
135,  242-244,  276,  286,  288,  290 
306  (see  good  on  earth ;  pos 
terity  ;  immortality,  earthly) 

Initiative   (see   creative  faculty) 

Innocence,  91,  144 

Insects,  10,  184 

bee,  19,  144,  152,  165,  183 
beetle,  13 
butterfly,  154 
cricket,  19 
dragon-fly,  153,  272 
firefly,  155 

Inspiration,  insight,  2,  8,  9,  13,  15 
132,  199  (see  genius) 

Integrity,  8,  18  (see  right) 

Intemperance,  116 

Intensive  farming,  23,  30  (see 
agriculture) 

Internationalism,  21,  24,  26,  32 
33,  54,  75,  109,  289 

Invention  (see  creative  faculty) 

Ionia,  161 

Isaac,  298-300 

Isaiah,  45 

Italy,  201,  207  ff,  264,  268 

James,  Prof.  William,  10 

Janes,  Dr.  Lewis  G.,  288-290 

Japan,  250 

Jerusalem,  300 

Jesus,  n,  45,  65-66,  70,  73,  76 

86,  115,  126,  143,  175,  224,  262 

299-301 

Jews,  87,  123-124,  211,  298-301 
Job,  Book  of,  quoted  in  title,  89 
Jones,  Jenkin  Lloyd,  27 
Joseph  of  Arimathea,  77 
Joseph  of  Nazareth,  299 
Jove,  28 
Judas,  300 


July,  272 

June,  22,  28,  35,  177,  187 

Justice,  5,  7,  13,  25,  35,  48,  102 

Keats,  quoted  in  title,  262 
Kitch-a-makin  hill,  182,  186 
Knowledge,  4,  8, 19,  21,  24,  25,  67 
76,  77,  83,  91, 148,  223,  278  (see 
wisdom,  philosophy,  science) 

Labor,  33,  47-48,  49-50,  106,  156 
196  (see  work,  toil,  leisure) 

Laughter,  50,  109,  no,  157,  164 
266,  274  (see  mirth) 

Law,  civil,  disregard  of,  20 

Law,  Natural,  29-32,  34,  66-68 
88,  144  (see-  life) 

Lazarus,  166 

Lear,  221 

Learning,  4,  16,  19  (see  wisdom, 
knowledge) 

Leisure,  34,  50  (see  recreation) 

Lethe,  106 

Liberty,  50,  53,  54,  282  (see  free 
dom) 

Liberty  not  license,  8 

Liberty  of  thought,  74 

"  Life, The  Complete,"  dedication 
of,  278 

Life,  delight  in,  13,  21,  31,  42,  50 
66-68,  107-110,  112,  146,  149 
165-192,  286,  289  (see  serenity) 

Life,  the  good,  5,  6,  7,  n,  31,  32 
34,  37,46,  85,  135,  271 

Life,  the  law  of,  6,  13,  25,  26,  29 
32,  34,  96,  103 

Life,  the  mingled  beauty,  tragedy, 
mystery,  and  opportunity  of, 
5-9,  10,  13-15,  20-26,  28-36 
39-40,  41,  42,  47,  62,  72,  81,  85 
9°'  93'  95'  96'  97,  98~I0i»  i°3 

IO5,  I  l8,  I2O-I22,  129,  130,  134 
136-148,  149-192,  I99-2OO,  260 

284,  289  (see  hardness,  Nature) 
Life,  the  simple,  n,  18,  34,  54,  66 

107-110, 114-115, 126-127, 130 

139,  140,  146,  178,  184 
Life,  the  Way  of,  5,  7,  25-26,  29 

31,  41,  42,  84,  87,  134,  231 


322 


GENERAL    INDEX 


Lighthouses,  87,  107 
Lightning,  6,  29,  30,  112,  172,  215 

285 

Living,  the  art  of,  93-148  (1-306) 
Loss  and  change,  96,  97,  130,  195 

197-198,  201-202,  204-206 
Love,  affection,  i,  62,  70,  72,  113 
127,  130,  197-198,  201,  237 
241,  257  (see  friendship  ;  see 
affection) 

good  will  to  men,  i,  7,  24,  39 
40,  41,  46,  54,  56,  58,  70,  72 
75,  81,  82,  83,  87,  102,  113 

115,  122,   127,    135,    225,    257 

289  (see  good  on  earth,  good 

will  to  men,  brotherhood) 
of  the  ideal,  7,  40,  81,  87,  104 

122,    135   (see  moral  ideal; 

beauty,  ideal ;   aspiration) 
Lowell,  James  Russell,  7,  45,  56 
Luxury,  6,  18,  33,  54  (see  wealth) 

Macbeth,  14 
Macedonia,  43,  299 
Man,  chief  end  of,  32 

dignity  of,  20,  25  28,  29,  34,  41 
48,  50,  54,  59,  74,  82,  89,  90 

9i»  I3l 

evolution  of,  5,  7,  20,  24-26,  28 
29,  31,  34,  40,  42,  47,  50,  54 
58,  61,  66,  67,  93,  128,  131 
134,  271  (see  progress,  life) 

the  ideal,  21,  34,  41,  131 
Man  his  own  saviour,  32,  34,  35 

41,  48,  50,  74,  87,  100,  112,  128 

129,  131 
Man's   right    to   the   earth    (see 

earth's  resources) 
Manliness,  21,  37,  99,  104 
Manila,  24  (see  Philippines) 
March,  119 

Marriage,  37,  241,  250,  268 
Mars,  war-god,  299 
Martyrs,   29,   56-57,  63,  96,  134 

(see  prophets,  saviours,  saints) 
Materialism,  8,  18,  56,  273 
Matter  vs.  soul,  79 
May,  27,  32,  182  (see  spring) 
Mead,  Edwin  D.,  27 


Meadows,  127,  136,  154,  157,  168 

292  (see  fields) 
Meditation,  9,   18,   132,  148,  185 

298  (see  memories) 
Memories,    15,    15-16,    140,    173 

254-256,  269-270,  271,  276, 278 

291-294 
Mental    science,    34,   85,    90,   96 

'56-1 57 
Metaphysics,  10,  n,  32,  89,  126 

(see  philosophy,  dreams  ii ) 
Meteors,  305-306 
Michael  (angel),  148 
Michaelangelo,  207 
Middle  ground,  the,  282 
Middlesex  Fells,  14,  227-234 
Milton,  John,  7 
Ministers  of  truth  and  good,  14 

16,  223,  290 

Miracle,  22,  34,  66-68,  123-124 
(see  signs  and  symbols) 

as  symbol :  Moses'  rod,  73,  123 
Mirth,  rapture,   13,  21,  22,   107- 
110  (see  life,  delight  in;  se 
renity  ;  laughter) 

frivolity,  42,  47  (see  social) 
Moderation,  wise,  235-236 

time-serving,  282 
Mohammed,  86,  161 
Monadnock,  126,  185,  235,  272 

287 
Money,  invitation  to  lose  a  little, 

19-20 

Moon,  201,  206,  251-253,  293 
Moonlight,  127,  251-253 
Moral  ideal,  9,  25,  26,  41,  74,  78 

So,  81,  82,  83,  86,  104,  105,  133 

135  (see  aspiration,  ought) 
Moral  law,  origin  of,  81,82,  83,  86 
Morning,  13,  53,  66,  92,  97,  107 

131,  133,  176,  198  (see  sunrise) 
Moses,  14,  73,  123,  126,  228 
Mother  Nature,  22-24,  55>  86,  100 

155,  176,    255;    the   solveless 

Mother,  288  (see  Nature) 
Mother's  breast,  23 
Mothers,  22,  23, 33,  46,  55,  59, 164 

198,  208-209,  267,  276 
Mott,  Lucretia,  27 


GENERAL    INDEX 


323 


Mountains  (unspecified)  16,  22 
75,  103,  105,  106,  131,  132 
157,  217,  220,  272,  285,  287 
(see  hilltops) 

Adirondacks,  170 

Alps,  4,  25,  44,  218,  254 

Apennines,  218 

Caucasus,  7,  142,  229 

Helicon,  94,  254 

Himalayas,  9 

Juras,  218 

Monadnock,  126,  185,  235,  272 
287 

Nebo,  228 

Olivet,  298 

Parnassus,  8 

Rockies,  274 

Sierras,  197 

Sinai,  29 

Vesuvius,  201,  220 
Mount  Auburn  cemetery,  228 
Muses,  2,  7,  8,  172,  250,  258  (see 

poets  and  poesy) 
Music,    107,    163,    208-210,    2ii 
213-214,  239,  240,  277 

Apollo's  pipe,  8 

bells,  51,  136,  210-226,  240 

cymbals,  299 

drum,  246 

fife,  299 

flute,  211,  299 

harp,  lyre,  2,  8,  211,  298 

lute,  127,  299 

sackbut,  299 

timbrel,  211,  299 

trumpet,  104,  240 

vi'na,  62 

violin,  211 
Mystery,  7,  10,  11,  34,  39,  42,  80 

89,  235-236,  278  (see  God) 
Mystic  lakes,  14,  158,  159  note 
Mystic    river,    123-124,   157-159 

227,^228,  252,  253,  305 
Mysticism,  9 

Napoleon,  44 

National  honor,  6,  24,  137,  282  f 

Nature,  beauty  and  bounty  of,  i 

5, 10,  14, 18-19,  21-24,  30,  33 


Nature,  etc.  (continued] 

34,41,  55,  66-68,  70,  77,  80- 
81,  86,  88,  89,  93-95,  95,  98- 
101,  107,  109,  125,  164,  166 
167,  169,  171-175,  178-180 
184-192,  199,  203,  266,  288 
291-294 

destructive  forces  in,  5,  28-31 

39-40,  54,  57,  60,  89,  142,  144 

secrecy  of,  5,  10,  28,  42,  79,  86 

193 ;  solveless  Mother,  288 
conquest  of,  by  man,  29,  30-31 
36,  37,  40,  41,  42,  50,  54,  54- 
55'  57»  67,  91,  100,  106 
confidence  in,  80-8 1,  203 

Nature  at  play,  170,  266 

Nature,  Mother  (see  mother) 

Nature's  resources,  right  of  all 
men  to  (see  earth's  resources) 

Nazareth,  262 

Nemesis,  141 

Neptune,  154 

New  England,  6,  24, 176 ;  poets,  6 

New  ideal,  new  philosophy,  126 

Night,  11,  94,  97,  168,  206,  264 
272,  293,  305-306 

Nirvana,  184 

No-Man's-Land,  280 

"  No  Trespass,"  22 

Novelists,  61,  108 

November,  182,  297 

Nut  and  fruit  diet,  108 

Obedience  to  the  highest,  32 

Ocean,  i,  34,  50,  92,  93,  98,  102 
119, 120-122, 153,  156,  157,  158 
168, 172, 174,  175,  186,  230,  235 
264,  274,  280-281,  286,  295-297 
(see  ships,  sailors,  sea,  etc.) 

October,  155,  181,  185,  187,  274 

Old  age,  youthful,  90,  no,  140 
146,  147,  179,  235,  274 

Old  year,  265,  284 

Omar  Khayyam,  169 

Opportunity,  93-95,  95,  113,  284 

Order  in  Nature,  10,  98,  180,  199 
203  (see  Nature) 

Orpheus,  214 

Otherworldliness,  84, 89,  128,  281 


324 


GENERAL  INDEX 


Ought,  the,  56,  61,  288  (see  moral 

ideal) 
Overcoming,  129,  132,  138,  144 

Pacific  ocean,  50 
Paganism,  7,  1 1 

Pain,  5,  7,  31,  32,  40,  46,  59,  80 
85,  90,  97,  102,  103,  106,  122 

130,  134-135'  l64 
Palestine,  66,  219 
Pan,  163-164,  172 
Paphos,  172 
Paradise,  92,  103,  152,  214,  216 

223,  303  (see  Eden) 
Parnassus,  8 

Parsees,  sun-worship,  62,  168 
Parthenon,  220 

Past,  the,  8,  12,  13,  15,  18,  35,  52 
60,  62,  66,  76,  145,  224 

debt  to  the,  52,  54,  65,  289 
Path  of  life  (see  life) 
Patience,  25,  137,  212,  223 
Patmos,  252 

Patriotism,  6,  24,  137,  282-283 
Patterson,  A.  J.,  290 
Peace,  25,  32-33,  45,  51,  59,  100 

(see  war) 

Pearson,  Col.  D.  C.,  279 
Persia,  45,  62 
Peter  the  great,  44 
Petrarch,  207 
Pharaoh,  124 
Phi  Beta  Kappa,  3,  25 
Philip  of  Macedon,  64,  299 
Philippines,  24,  282-283,  2$9 
Philosophy,  3,  10,  n,  21,  26,  225 
246  (see  wisdom) 

the  New,  126  (see  metaphysics) 
Ph.D.,  16 

Phoebus  Apollo,  168,  234 
Physics,  246 
Pierian  spring,  19 
Pilate,  224 

Pilgrim,  Bunyan's,  161,  188 
Pindar,  5 
Plato,  171 
Poesy,  the  conditions  of  high,  6 

7-8,  8,  61  (see  song) 
Poetic  form,  sound  vs.  sense,  6, 61 


Poets  and  poesy,  I,  2,  5,  6,  7,  8,  28 
38,  45,  51,  56,  61,  100,  106,  108 
no,  192, 250,  277  (see  prophets, 
seers,  song) 

Poles,  earth's,  i,  30,  127,  168 

Pompey,  44,  141 

Posterity,  37,  54,  55, 60, 62-63, 12& 

Poverty,  23,  33,  34,  41,  47,  53,  101 

H9'  135 

Powder-house,  old,  252-253 
Power  and  place,  6,  18,  102 
Praise  and  blame,  122,  212,  277 
Prayer,  29,  32,  47,  59,  70,  90,  96 

100,  133,  213,  241,  242 
Preaching,  113,  125-126,  241,  271 
Pre-existence,  260 
Present,  the,  8,  12,  13,  52,  60,  68 

76,85 

Priests,  14,  84,  168,  179,  299 
Progress,  8,  13,  18,  20,  23-26,  28 
29,31,40,42,  51,  53-55,  58 
66,67,71,79,  81,  85,  87,  98- 
99,  103,  107,  112,  128,  134 
(see  good  on  earth) 

through  defeat,  64,  91 

eternal,  70,  85,  107 
Prometheus,  7,  8,  61,  142,  229 
Prophets,  7,  16,  23,  29,  51,  63,  71 

139,263,280-281  (see  saviours) 
Punch  and  Judy,  in 
Purgatory,  68,  136 
Pythagoras,  45 


Rain,  98,  117,  168,   171,  253, 

287,  297 

Rainbow,  30,  72 
Raphael,  136 
Recreation,   5,   34,   50,    108, 

264  (see  leisure) 
Red  sea,  123-124 
Reform,  opposition  to,  7,  29 
54,  56-57,  76,  143,  282 

the  noble  and  the  needless, 
Religion,  as  a  life,  70-71,  88 

Free,  74,  86,  87,  88 

reason  in,  84,  224,  225 
Revelation,  31,  67,  71,  73,  79 

85,86,87,91,101,226,281, 
Revere,  Paul,  227,  253 


158 

32 

289 


GENERAL    INDEX 


325 


Right,  the,  6, 8, 9, 14,  24, 25, 33, 35 

44,  48,  75,  282,  283  (see  wrong) 
Rivers,  46,  58,  146,  204,  278  (see 
brooks,  streams) 

Allegheny,  58 

Amazon,  158,  256 

Charles,  172,  228 

Concord,  291-294 

Danube,  62,  218,  256 

Euphrates,  159,  255 

Fox,  271,  278 

Gihon,  159,  255 

Jordan,  262 

Mississippi,  58 

Mystic,  123-124,  157-159,  227 
228,  252,  253,  305 

Niger,  62 

Nile,  45^62 

Rhine,  218,  238,  256 

Shannon,  221 

Styx,  204 

Volga,  62 

Yellowstone,  58 

Robbins,  Wentworth  B.,  285-287 
Rome,  136,  141,  215,  221 
Royce,  Prof,  josiah,  10 
Russia,  44,  283 

Sailors,  14,  87,  186,  196,  280-281 
297  (see  ships,  shore,  ocean) 

Saints,  45,  56,  96,  109,  no  (see 
prophets,  saviours) 

Sanborn,  Frank,  27 

Sassamon  Notch,  182,  186 

Saturnalia,  109 

Saviour,  man  his  own  (see  man) 

Saviours,  7,  29,  31,  45,  51,  54,  56 
60,  63,  74,  83,  86,  87  (see  mar 
tyrs,  saints,  prophets) 

Science  and  scientists,  4,  8,  9,  ro 
n,  21,  25-26,  45,  67,  100,  142 
(see  philosophy) 

Sculpture,  9,  45,  130,  141,  208 
(see  art,  music) 

Sea,  53,  67,  74,  87, 97, 98, 106,110 
113,123-124,127,154,  157,158 
165, 186, 196,  199,  203,  227,  228 
251,  272-273, 286,  290,  295-297 
(see  ocean,  ships,  beach,  waves) 


Sea-bathing,  50,  175,  259 

Seers,  7,  45,  48,  76,  79,  133,  289 
(see  poets,  prophets) 

Self,  the,  74,  78, 86, 90,  92,  96, 102 
103,  136, 139  (see  individuality) 

Self-control,  25,  37,  102,  104,  129 
139  (see  temptation) 

Self-forgiveness,  137 

Self-sufficiency,  28-29,  74,  90,  96 
103,  116,  122,  131 

Selfishness,  self-seeking,  6,  20-22 
25,  34,  41,44,46-47,  53,  56,  60 
61,  88,  101,  106,  109,  141,  266 
282  (see  avarice,  greed) 

Selflessness,  self-sacrifice,  7,  8,  45 
46,  54,  56,  61,  70-71,  79>  86>  MI 

Seneca,  45 

Seneca  Indians,  58 

Sense  and  soul,  104,  no,  139 

September,  176,  285 

Serenity,  31,84,  85,90,97,98,  103 
106, 108-110,  119,  122,  126,  127 
129,  130,  131, 132, 136,  137,  146 
159,  167, 185,  203,  245-248,  261 
273  (see  cheerfulness  ;  life,  de 
light  in ;  mirth  i) 

Shakespeare,  45, 161, 171  (quoted 
in  title,  92) 

"  Shanty,  the,"  188 

Shells,  184  (see  beach) 

Shiloh,  299 

Ships,  18,  87,  92,  97,  102,  120-121 
173, 186,  228,  240-241,  252,  264 
280-281,  295-297,297(866 light 
houses,  sailors,  ocean,  sea) 

Shore,  53,87,92,93, 102,  no,  119 
121,  153, 172,  173,  174,  186,  230 
264,  281  (see  ocean,  harbors) 

Sicily,  296 

Signs  and  symbols,  73,  74,  84  (see 
miracle) 

Simmons,  Henry  M.,  135 

Simonides,  6 

Simple  life  (see  life,  the  simple) 

"Sin,"  41,  46,  125,  143,  144,  172 
266 

Sinai,  29 

Sirens,  293 

Sisyphus,  toil  of,  7 


326 


GENERAL    INDEX 


Sky,  i,  22,25,67,71,72,89,91,94 
107,  1 1 o,  119,  1 20,  127,  131,  154 
156, 170, 173, 179,  186, 196,  203 
215,  229,  241,  251,  278,  280,  287 
290  (see  clouds) 

Sleep, 1 1-12,88, 107, 174,194,242 

Sleet,  49, 132,  165,  287  (see  snow) 

Snow,  10,  136,  160,  182,  185,  186 
187,  iSS,  189,  192,  264,  304  (see 
sleet,  rain) 

Social  frivolity,  6,  42,  46-47,  50 
100-101,  109,  126,  132,  140-141 
157,  250,  281 

Social  reorganization,  20-22,  24 
26,  29,  33,  35,  42,  47-50,  53-57 
75,  88,  100,  109,  126,  128,  146 
266  (see  justice ;  earth's  re 
sources,  right  of  all  men  to) 

Socialism,  20,  21,  50,  53  (see 
brotherhood) 

Socialist,  the,  21 

Socrates,  45  (quoted,  So) 

Solomon,  299,  300 

Song,  1,2,6,7-8,12,15,22,  59,  75 
90,  106,  108,  113,  127,  130,  133 
136, 137, 163, 177,  192,  239,  240 
250,  258,  266,  275,  277  (see 
poets  and  poesy  ;  bird-songs) 

Sophocles,  5 

Soul,  i,  5,  7,  8,  15,  18,  21,  28,  30 
33'  34.  45»  5°'  59'  68,  69,  70,  71 
74,  75,  78-79,  84,  88,  96,  103 
105,  no,  116, 122,  126,  130,  131 
134,156-157,174,179,273 

Soul  dulled  by  drudgery,  33-34 
47-48, 49-50,  1 26, 1 30-1 3 1 , 1 56 

Spain,  254 

Speculation,  theological,  89  (see 
metaphysics) 

Speech,  the  beginning  of,  20 

Spencer,  Herbert,  10,  45 

Spirit,  spiritual  life,  6,  12,  21,  52 
131,  179,  236,  273,  281  (see 
soul,  eternal  life) 

Spiritism,  1 59  note 

Spring,  2,  10,  68,  115,  160,  169 
174, 177, 180, 182,  187,  236,  266 
271,  278,  293  (see  April,  May, 
June) 


Springs,  fountains,  94-95,  185 
Squirrels,  125,  152,  173,  184,  228 
Star,  the,  as  a  symbol,  26,  76-77 
Stars,  13,  19,  20,  23,  36,  38,  42,  56 
67,  70,  71,  72,  76,87,  89,  94 
95,   104,  107,  112,  133,  154 
168,  194,  196-197,  200,  201 
206,  251,  262-263,  276,  285 
288,  290,  305  (see  earth,  sun, 
moon,  meteors) 
A  returns,  189 
Mars,  201,  293 
Orion,  19 
Venus,  189,  293 
State,  the,  5,  20,  114,  282 
Stone  Age,  59 

Storm,  12,  57,  85,  97,  121,  132- 
133,    158,    165,   182,   186,    215 

254'  3°4 
Stradivarius,  211 
Streams,  14,  87, 107,  124,  127, 132 

136,   146,    236,    285,    298   (see 

brooks,  rivers) 
Success,  8,  119,  122,  126-127 
Summer,    10,  68,   125,   155,   180 

187,  215,  227,  272,  278,  287 
Sumner,  Charles,  228 
Sun,  13,  22,  62,  116,  156,  168,  171 

*73'  X75'  J77>  i?8,  187,  283,  290 
Sunshine,  i,  12,  70,  75,  97,   in 

112, 160,  166,  183,  185,  231,  287 
Sunrise,  9,  10,  13,  53,  59,  62,  66 

97,107,  117,  120,  127,  132,  133 

166-167, 168,  170-171, 172,  175 

179,  180,  206,  235,  264,  287  (see 

morning) 
Sunset,  13,  123, 127,  167,  168,  172 

204,  228,  242,  251,  290,  299  (see 

twilight) 

Sun-worship,  62,  168 
Sunda  islands,  295 
Superstitions,  9,  28,  74,  145 
Switzerland,  264 
Sympathy,  8,  24,  42,  244 
Syria,  12,  45,  96,  175,  264,  298 

Temple,  Edward  F.,  16,  205 
Temptation,    37,    142,    144    (see 
self-control) 


GENERAL    INDEX 


327 


Tennyson,  7 

Texas,  23 

Theatre,  109,  178 

Theology,    speculation,    89    (see 

metaphysics) 
Theseus  (allusion  to),  7 
Thought,  4,  1 5,  20,  40,  50,  63,  67 

102,  106,  108-109,  174 
Thunder,  29,  165,  215  (see  light 
ning) 

Tieck  (quoted),  160 
Titan,  104,  186 
"  Titles,"  99  (see  fame) 
Titus,  300 

"  Together,"  20  (see  brotherhood) 
Toil,  24,  88,  106,  1 08,  122,  130 

147,    156-157,    161,    172,    174 

185  (see  work,  labor) 
Trade,  18,  19,  41,  46,  106,  252 
Tradition,  9,  12,  15,  74,  85,  224 

(see  creeds,  dogmas) 
Tragedy,  life's,  6,  7  (see  life) 
Traitor,  a  loyal,  282 
Travel,  264 

Trees,  13,  19,  40,  49,  115,  149 
163-164,  165,  167,  177,  279 
293  (see  woods) 

apple,  151 

alder,  185 

beech,  231 

birch,  176,  187,  189,  228,  231 

Bodhi-tree,  167 

calabash,  255 

chestnut,  125,  183 

cypress,  119,  129 

elder,  160 

elm,  151,  154,  160,  167,  169 

fir,  1 68 

hazel,  182,  228,  231 

hemlock,  14,  172,  173,  176,  177 
191,  230,  234,  304 

larch,  158,  172,  206,  234 

mango,  283 

maple,  132,  149,  151,  155,  163 
169,  174,   185,  231,  236,  255 

mountain-ash,  255 

oak,    125,    163,   166,   171,   185 
215,  228 

olive,  298-300 


Trees  (continued} 

palm,  119,  138,  143,  192,  281 
pine,   14,  68,  80-81,   138,    152 
154,  176,   180,  184,  185,  186 
190,  192,  199,  284,  304 
spruce,  10,  152,  180,  279 
sumach,  156,  176,  183,  231 
sycamore,  213 
willow,  158 
witch-hazel,  182 
Treetop  land,  149,  279 
Tropics,  49,  92,  217,  296 
Trust,  84,  85,  87,  88,  91,  97,  137 
183  (see  faith,  hope,  serenity) 
Truth,  7,  9,  12,  13,  25,  42,  50,  51 
66,  69,  73,  74,  76,  83,  84,  118 
127,  223,  290 

faithfulness  to,  7,  9,  42,  66,  69 
84,  91,  92, 117-118,  223,  290 
letter  vs.  spirit  of,  12 
neglected,  vs.  lofty  lies,  9 
search  for,  5,  9,  9-13,  14,  15,  29 
42,  84,  92,   127,  223  ff,  280- 
281,  290 

vs.  tradition,  15  (see  tradition) 
Tufts  College,  3,  14,  17,  120 
1 59  note,  205  note,  207,  227- 
228,  251,  254,  285  note;  Prof. 
Dolbear,  10  ;  The  Old -Time 
Boys,  15 

Turkish  massacres,  57 
Twilight,  10,  19,  25,  56,  140,  185 

259  (see  sunset) 
Tyrian  dyes,  299 

Unity  (Chicago),  280-281 
Universe,    the,   good    (see    good 

universe) 
Unselfishness  (see  selflessness) 

Vespucci,  14 

Vestal  virgin,  63 

Vesuvius,  201,  220 

Victory  in  defeat,  46,    64,   118- 

119,    135,    138-139,    145    (see 

defeat  in  victory) 
Vineyard  Haven,  Mass.,  153 
Vineyards,  58,  67,  239,  264 
Virgil,  161 


328 


GENERAL   INDEX 


Virtue,  18,  24,  25,  54,  60,  104 
144  (see  integrity;  see  right) 

Voluptuousness,  the  rational,  107 
(see  life,  the  simple) 

Vulcan,  1 68 

Vulture,  7,  44,  142,  230 

Walking,  3,  14,  15,  17,  18,  22-25 

278 
War,  25,  32-33,  43-46,  46-47,  53 

55'  57.  61,  75,  99,  139,  141,146 

215-21-6,  257,  266,  268,  283,  299 

(see  peace) 
War  and  literature,  5 
Washington,  George,  253 
Waves,  67,  93,  95,  97,  119,  157 

158, 174,  178,  184,  196,  264,  280 

286,  296  (see  ocean,  sea,  ships, 

harbors,  lighthouses,  beach) 
Way  of  life  (see  life) 
Wealth,  riches,  luxury,  18,  20, 102 
no,  249-250  (see  riches,  lux 
ury) 

niggard,  miserly,  101,  137,  177 
249-250  (see  avarice) 

of  the  simple  life,  18,  127,  178 
245,  261  (see  life,  the  simple) 
Wedgwood,  108 

West,  the  (United  States),  i,  169 
West  Hall,  Tufts  College,  17 
Western  Europe,  44,  220 
Western  logic,  n 
Whip-poor-will,    19,    252    (see 

birds) 

Whitman,  Walt,  7 
Wildcat  Notch,  80,  184 
Will-lessness,   60,    138,   142-143 

232-234 
Will-power,  13,  31,  32,  37-38,  41 

44,  50,  55,  78,  81,87,91,95,99 

129,131,132,133,  135,  137,  138 

139,  147,  273 


Wind,   18,  57,  67,   119,  165,  174 

182,  186, 187, 188,  232,  233,  251 

279,  280,  286,  297  (see  breeze) 
Winter,  10,  49,  129,  132,  136,  160 

173, 174, 177,  180,  185,  186,  189 

278,  304 
Wisdom,  8,  25  (4-26),  29,  39,  50 

53,  86,  91,  102,  224,  225,  289 

(see  knowledge) 
Wise,  Isaac  M.,  27 
Wit,  no,  116 
Woman,    23,    33,    34,    46    (see 

mothers) 
Woods,  14,  18,  58,  107,  123,  125 

129,155,156,163,  1 66,  171,  175 

184,  278,  279,  304  ;  in  autumn, 

155,  181  (see  trees) 
Wordsworth,  7 
Work,  33,  106,  108,  130,  140,  150 

171,  274-275  (see  labor,  toil) 
Work  or  starve,  33,  88 
Work  as  play,  19,  66,  130-131 
World-helpers  (see  helpers) 
Worship,  29,  62,  78,  80,  83,  84,  85 

88,  105,  125-126,  179,  224 
Worth  makes  the  man,  18 
Wrong,  6,  25, 47,  50,  51,  54,  58,  60 

75,  266,  282  (see  right) 

Yahweh,  28 

Year,  old  (see  old  year) 

Youth,  4,  14,  15,  17,  104,  127,  142 
145,  146,  147,  158,  175,  179 
227-234,  237,  256-257,  268,  284 

Youthful  old  age  (see  age) 

Zeal,  32,  93-95,  95,  122,  131,  147 
(see  earnestness,  will,  devotion) 

Zetagathean  Society,  207,  223 

Zoroaster,  45;  fire-worship,  62 
1 68 

"  Zuversicht  "  (quoted),  160 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN     INITIAL    FINE      OF     25     CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE, 


SEP    261932 


l?Jun'54LMS 
UN    91954LU 


MOV 


'934 


MAR  17  ,934 


FEB  16 


MAY     7  1937 

16 19*1 M 


LD  l!l-50/H-8f-32 


v/518 


Foens   of  h 
and-  oth'  r 


56761, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


